


Something Witty and Relevant

by fallingivy



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Deadpool Thought Boxes, Eventual Smut, F/M, Marvel Cameos, Threats of Rape/Non-Con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-08 12:12:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 33,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14105133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallingivy/pseuds/fallingivy
Summary: Death is just the beginning, especially when Death is involved. Follow our plucky OC as she and her thought boxes meet Deadpool and his thought boxes. Satisfaction Guaranteed: If you are satisfied by bad puns, bad dirty jokes, and bad 90's references.





	1. First Sight

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize in advance for the Grammar, spelling, and horrible English. But really, as long as the message is received clearly, isn't that the goal of language? Feel free to tell me what is right, left, and straight.
> 
> Don't tell my Grammar professor I said that.

Chapter 1: First Sight

I’m going to take an unpopular position.   
I love sitting in traffic. 

I know. I sometimes forget what the pedal on the left is used for, but I find traffic calming. It’s a good thing too. LA is stiff competition when it comes to worst traffic in the US, but DC metro area makes it work for that title. I grew up in traffic. Traffic gives me over an hour of uninterrupted time to sing to my steering wheel. I can be alone in my thoughts. I have the perfect excuse not to pick up the phone, or to just hang up. It’s my ‘me’ time. 

My ‘me’ time was interrupted suddenly one day by a loud screech of tires on the other side of the jersey wall. I didn’t even look. If I had, I would have seen the 18 wheeler lose control and head towards me. I would have realized I was stuck in my car, behind another equally trapped car. Instead, I just felt the impact crush the side of the car and then me in less than a second. Something snapped and I was gone. Time to walk where the angel’s trod and all that. 

Unfortunately, my life is more complicated than that. I woke up in the passenger’s seat. Well, mostly. My head was in the passenger’s seat. I was too shocked to notice too much. What I did notice was the skeleton dressed in black robes next to the car. She had the most impressive rack I have ever seen on a skeleton. They would make Pamela Anderson take notice. 

“You are supposed to stay dead.” The skeleton complained. I groaned low in my throat. I was kind of amazed that I made sound. Because of physics and air movement reasons. But she just frowned harder. “You can’t do that here.” She admonished. If I could have talked I would have.

Blue box: I’m sorry, I think?

Skeletor’s nicer cousin tilted her head. She pressed a bone finger to her chin. 

“I’ll just move you to somewhere more appropriate.” She said. “Don’t get up.” I frowned, and the world faded out of sight. Black out.

\-----///-----

Blue box: Where the hell am I?

I was in an alleyway when I opened my eyes. All of my bits were back where they should be. I was healed. And naked. And cold. And naked. The weirdly sexy skeleton was in front of me again. I was still really confused about how expressive that bone face was. And how she had hips. But I was more focused on how naked I was. 

Blue box: Shouldn’t I have at least a coconut bra or something? Maybe a loincloth? Or a towel?

“Well, if you’re going to complain about it.” She said. She waved her hand and I was wearing a tee shirt and jeans with shoes. I sighed in relief. “This universe is a much better fit you and your regeneration.” She said firmly. “I don’t know how you got misplaced.” I frowned. 

Blue box: Misplaced?

“I’ll see you next time you die!” She said cheerfully, waving at me. I waved back hesitantly and she disappeared. Huh. 

Holy crap I was dead. Like Dead, dead. I think that was legitimately an incarnation of Death. Who knows where I was now?

I allowed myself to freak the fuck out. I deserved it. The dawn was just around the corner and I could freak out until it got here. The dumpster to my right filled the slightly damp alley with the reek of decay and trash, to mingle with the smell of stale urine. I sunk to my knees anyway. There was ugly crying. The snotty, gross, sobbing kind that leaves sticky mucus all over your face. It took until dawn was well and truly nigh to stop. It was just so horrible. I had nothing. No one. 

Blue box: Pity Party, table for one.

I gathered my remaining wits and decided to figure out what my status was. I needed data. I needed to know what I was working with. What were my resources? If I was going to be wherever I was for the foreseeable future, I needed resources. And breakfast. And a coat. 

Blue box: I am freezing my metaphorical balls off. 

My inventory:  
\- One pair of blue jeans, size 12. Which was a shock, seeing as how they fit, and didn’t seem to be a cosmic typo. Fastest weight loss program ever. Don’t recommend it though. Hurts like a bitch. The pants were sturdy enough, if a little dirty from the alley. And the fact that I was probably sitting in mostly dry piss.   
\- One matching set of underwear. I don’t think I have ever owned matching underwear before. They were an adorable little black on black cotton subtle pattern that I didn’t give a crap about. I was just glad it was a good bra. Bad bras or going bra less and fancy free was for those with tiny itty bitty boobies.   
\- One tee shirt, large. Maybe even XXL. Way too big, but I did mean that I could hide both of my arms and hands inside. It was a non-descript black number that doubled as a short risqué dress with a crew neck that hit me like a scoop. Maybe my cleavage was going to buy me breakfast?  
\- Combat boots, black. Ass kickers. I had always wanted combat boots. It was like getting a lollipop from the guy that just socked you across the jaw. Twice. With a chainsaw.   
\- Socks. Never underestimate the importance of a good pair of socks. My feet were warm, and about the only thing that got that privilege.  
\- A hair tie. It held my hair out of the way. Hurray?   
\- A sense of power. My body hummed with a strange energy that felt like anticipation. It felt like everything around me was… potential. Magical.

Blue box: Pull a rabbit out of a hat. Eat the hat.  
I pondered what to do. I pulled gently with my power and a piece of trash flew through the air across the alleyway to my waiting hand. I gave it a lopsided imitation of a smile. I cleaned it of grime with a thought. I was a bit of newspaper. 

It shocked me to read, even as the shivers became more apparent. The publication was the Daily Bugle, of New York City, and the topic of the day was the clean-up efforts in the Capital. It was, of course, extremely critical of everyone. It did tell me that SHIELD had been revealed to have been infiltrated by Hydra. Testimonies from Congress were apparently winding down, and Black Widow had been off the radar for almost a month. The date was September 18th 2014. I was in the Marvel Universe. 

Blue box: Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuckity Fuckballs. Also: Awesome.

What the hell did I do now? I had information. How accurate that information was could be anybody’s guess. Because the Bugle said that Spiderman had been a vigilante for almost two years. But it also showed a picture of Captain America that was clearly a young Chris Evans. So it couldn’t be purely Marvel Cinematic Universe, but it had to have components of it. And I wasn’t as familiar with Comic verse. And was this 616? Or some other number that I didn’t remember?

There were plenty of people and organizations in this world that would love to get their hands on an inexperienced wielder of indeterminate powers. Especially one who knew the identities of a bunch of heroes and vigilantes. 

Every piece of information could be valuable, if it was right. And I had different versions in my head and no way of checking on anything. I needed more information. I needed help. 

Blue box: I need advice from an old black woman.

Or maybe just advice from an insane mercenary. 

Deadpool. He broke the 4th wall. He knew he looked like Ryan Reynolds. He knew about the comics. He could help me.

Blue box: Or shoot me.

I shivered so badly I bumped my head on the wall behind me. I needed a coat. I looked appraisingly at the dumpster beside me. I had cleaned the paper with my new powers, which I was tempted to call the force. 

Blue box: Use the force. Use it. You know you want to. I Double Dog Dare you.

I took a deep breath of foul air as I stood up. Time to go shopping. 

\----- /// -----

Two hours later, I had my new coat. Well, I had a repaired and cleaned thick NYU hoodie. I also had a cleaned up the black beanie hat shoved on my head. 

More importantly, I had found an old broken canvas backpack. Someone hadn’t cleaned it out, and their loss was my $22. I shoved my finds inside. They weren’t much, but I did have a second pair of mismatched socks and another shirt. I also had a pair of well-worn pajama pants. They had absolutely adorable little elephants. 

Blue box: How they got into my pajamas I will never know.

I spent 4 of my precious dollars at a dollar store and bought some food and a water bottle. Or, rather, a bottle of juice that I would repurpose as a water bottle after I drank it. Peanut butter was a lifesaver. I found a thicker coat at a thrift store for 3 dollars. But I also found 1.78 in coins on the ground. So that was nice. 

Blue box: Nice and pathetic.

It was not even dinner time when I hesitantly knocked on the door at Sister Margaret’s School for Wayward Girls. Although I suppose that would depend on what time you have dinner. I hoped that Deadpool would like me enough to help me. 

Blue box: You’re a pathetic fangirl. Grow up and put on your big girl panties.

No one answered, so I kept knocking. And knocking. I really didn’t have another plan. I was almost halfway through tapping out the ‘His Eye is on the Sparrow’, using the various parts of the door to make different pitches, when the door opened suddenly, I fell back on my ass on the pavement. I looked up, startled at how suddenly the door opened.

There was a masked Deadpool staring me down. Then I noticed the gun pointed at me. 

“I’d be really nice to me.” He said overly sweetly. “As much as the drumming was inspired, the go away sign should have tipped you off.” His voice was strange. Not unpleasant. Just seemed to have a strange roughness to it. I refocused.

“What sign?” I asked, confused. My voice sounded the normal to my ears, which was a relief. I was afraid I was going to squeak or something equally embarrassing. Deadpool flicked his eyes to the door and back.

Yellow box: There is no sign.

White box: You didn’t actually put up the sign, idiot.

Yellow box: We said we were going to.

White box: But we didn’t.

Deadpool twirled the gun on his fingers and put it away in a smooth motion while his other hand embarrassingly rubbed the back of his masked head. I watched literal White and Yellow boxes have a conversation. He searched the door and the ground like an adulterer trying to find a lost wedding ring.

Yellow box: I wonder why she’s staring at us.

White box: Maybe because you’re butt ugly and insane?

Yellow box: Rude.

White box: But true. She probably is just lost. She’s probably looking for an actual Catholic girl’s school. She’s probably a nun or something. 

Yellow box: And you were going to shoot her.

“I’m sorry sister.” Deadpool said, voice laden with apology. “I’ll help you find your convent.” I chuckled. 

“I’m not a nun.” I told him. He cocked his head to the side like a baby bird. 

Blue box: You’re adorable. Can I pat your head and feed you cookies?

“I like cookies.” Deadpool said, staring at the space slightly to my left. I looked but there was nothing there. Why would he tell me he liked cookies? 

Blue box: Did I say that out loud?

“I’m really sorry about bothering you.” I told him.

Yellow box: She has text boxes just like us.

I read Yellow’s message and froze, eyes wide. 

Blue box: I have text boxes? What do they say? Am I spilling all my secrets? Please don’t tell me that they told you about the fanfiction.

“I’m sorry.” I said. I tried to remember where the conversation was. At least the out loud portion. “Cookies?” I asked, confused. 

White box: She really does. I wonder who’s in her head. 

“I’m in my head.” I said, immediately. He literally jumped up into the air about six inches. I cringed. “Um. You have text boxes.” Deadpool nodded. 

“So do you.” He told me. I gave a half-hearted smile. 

Yellow box: Ask her about the fanfiction.

I groaned and hid my face in my hands, blushing slightly. 

Blue box: People write really hot porn about you.

“Really?” Deadpool asked, intrigued. I didn’t know what by.

Blue box: Crap. What did it say? Did it tell you about the panty kink? Or was it the DP? DP for Deadpool. 

“Oh my God that’s awesome!” He said, excited. I looked up. Maybe he was having a conversation with his boxes. “DP for DP!” I groaned and rubbed my eyes.

“I am so screwed.” I complained under my breath. 

White Box: Not yet.


	2. Like I need a hole in the head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please tell me which Marvel character you would want a cameo or scene written in about. Still no Beta, so all errors are mine. Pretend they are artistic choices, or tell me, and I'll fix them.

Chapter 2: Like I need a hole in the head.

I stared at my hands nervously while Deadpool chatted excitedly with Weasel. Not that I was introduced or anything. I just knew who he was. Like a stalker. 

Blue box: At least I’m an unintentional stalker. That should get me points. Or less stab wounds.

I sighed. I wished I knew what these boxes were saying. It could be the end of me and a lot of other people if other people could read them. Who knows what secrets I could spill that weren’t mine to spill? The wrong person might find out that Peter Parker was Spider Man. Or that Daredevil was blind. It might be better if I hid in a cave. Or that the world might be a better place if I had never come here. 

Blue box: I need your help Wade. Please help me. I’ll beg. I’ll even cry if that would help.

“You don’t have to cry.” Deadpool told me. “You are the first person I’ve ever met that has text boxes like me.” I looked up to find out he was watching me through his mask again. He smiled. “We’re twinsies.” I wondered how much of my inner monologue he had actually read. He wouldn’t hurt a hero. But others would. Others would hurt me. They would experiment. They would have no qualms about torture. 

“I think I might be sick.” I told him, voice a little choked up. I heaved.

Yellow box: Told you we shouldn’t have led with the twinsies thing.

White box: No one would want to have anything to do with this shit show.

I swallowed down the feeling that I was going to be sick while I tried to find the words to tell Deadpool that he was wrong. That I cared about him. That I knew way too much about him. That I thought he was awesome and I didn’t think he was disgusting.

Blue box: You’re not a shit show. I think you’re weirdness is hot. And texture just makes it better. You’re like, ribbed, for her pleasure. Fuck whoever told you you’re not hot, I mean have you seen those abs? I want to lick them.

Probably not the best thing to lead with. But Deadpool looked like his jaw was going to hit the floor. Which probably means that he read all of that. I groaned and winced. 

Yellow box: We are so going to score.

“I am so sorry for whatever you are reading.” I told him. “I am not doing it on purpose, I promise.” I swallowed. 

“What is crazy girl talking about?” Weasel asked, confused and amused. Deadpool turned to him and cupped his face like he was going to whisper, but didn’t lower his voice. 

“She wants the ‘D’.” Deadpool answered in sotto voice. I sighed. 

White box: She’s got to be crazy. 

Yellow box: Who cares? She’s hot. And she’s like us. See? Boxes?

Blue box: Oh God. What am I telling you? Are my secrets safe? More importantly, and their secrets safe? I know too many real names. I know too much in general. I am so going to get kidnapped and tortured for information.

“Please.” I begged. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath as I tried to push down the panic. When I opened them, Deadpool was staring at me. His mask was more expressive than it had any right to be, but it was still a mask. We stared at each other in silence while I hyperventilated. 

Yellow box: What are you supposed to do when someone is having a panic attack?

White box: We just shoot ourselves in the head.

Yellow box: We can’t just shoot her in the head. Can we?

Blue box: I vote against being shot in the head. 

White box: Hey there. I like that shade of blue.

Blue box: The boxes are blue? Well, it is my favorite.

Yellow box: Ours is red.

Blue box: I know. And you like chimichangas and Mexican food. And all things 90s. And Ryan Reynolds jokes. Although I don’t think you look like Ryan Reynolds crossed with a Shar-pei

“Who’s paying you?” Deadpool demanded. His voice was growling and gave me chills. I flinched and opened my mouth. I couldn’t make any sound come out beyond a squeak. He had pulled a gun on my again. 

Blue box: Please. I swear. I’m not a spying spy who spies. I’m not getting paid. Hell, I have almost $14 to my name because people don’t check their trash well enough. All I have fits into a backpack. You are the only person in the world that I have said more than two words to. I came to you. I would never sell information. I’m trying to make sure people told take it with knives and guns. And I am going to get tortured for information, I just know it. Just please don’t. Please.

Deadpool leaned back as I made choked sobbing noises and tried to speak. He put his gun away and I nearly collapsed into the chair. I was glad I had made a bathroom trip before coming here, or that would have been extra embarrassing. I covered my face and cried silent sobs that racked my body. I was ugly crying for the second time today. It probably wouldn’t be the last.

Blue box: I want my Mom and Dad. I want to go home.

“Where is home?” Deadpool asked, his voice softer.

“Man, what is going on with you and crazy?” Weazel asked. “I’m out.” I flinched when I heard the saw of the door opening. “Just don’t make a mess. I’m not cleaning up after you.” I heard the door slam shut. I choked on a sob. I was alone with Deadpool. His chair scraped against the floor. 

Blue box: Please. Please, Wade, Please. Don’t make me tell you. I have to protect them. You’d want me to protect them. You like Spiderman, right? I have to protect Spiderman. I just want to be safe too. Please. Please no torture or death. Please. Wade. Please.

“Please.” I choked out, barely. I shut my eyes tightly and braced myself. A gloved hand gently touched my chin and I flinched slightly. He didn’t let go, but waited and put a little pressure on it so I would look up. I raised my head and met his masked eyes. He was kneeling in front of the chair. I shivered hard. 

“I am not going to hurt you.” He told me slowly and carefully. I nodded slightly. Silent tears still fell onto his glove. I sniffled and took a deep breath. He nodded and tried to smile encouragingly behind the mask.

White box: You made the pretty girl cry.

Yellow box: Not on purpose. I just put out shooting as an option. I joke.

White box: Your humor needs work.

Blue box: Next time go with a Dirty Limerick. Less chance that I’ll think I am going to be interrogated and killed. 

“I do like dirty limericks.” Deadpool agreed. He pulled away abruptly and struck a recitation pose, still kneeling. 

“There once was a man from Nantucket,  
Whose thing was so long he could suck it.  
He said, with a grin,  
As he wiped off his chin,  
If my ear was a pussy I’d fuck it.” 

I laughed a little wet laugh. Deadpool smiled widely. I sniffed slightly and wiped my eyes, shaking a little as I choked up again. Deadpool frowned and relaxed the pose.

“You are safe.” He whined. “Scout’s honor.” He held up two fingers, then looked at them. “I don’t remember if it’s two or three.”

White box: You were never a boy scout.

Yellow box: Shush. She doesn’t know that.

Blue box: I do now. 

“Shit.” He said and his hands flew into the air. I chuckled a little. He smiled. “Yes, laugh. Laughter is better than crying.” I nodded in agreement as I wiped my eyes again. “We never know what to do when people cry.” I smiled slightly at him, a little lopsidedly, and cleared my throat. 

“Sorry?” I said, a little amused, in spite of myself.

Blue box: Hugs and chocolate. Puppies. Kittens. Rainbows. Sweaty sexy shirtless men. Like shirtless Chris Evans. Eye candy. And real candy. 

Deadpool reached into one of his many pockets and pulled out a lollipop. He offered it, daintily pinched between two large gloved fingers. I accepted it with another little smile. I unwrapped it and stuck it in my mouth, not even checking the flavor. It was root beer. He patted my shoulder awkwardly as the tears stopped. 

“Do you want a hug?” He asked. “Because no bad touch.” He said seriously. I nodded and held out my arms. He carefully pulled me into a hug, wrapping his arms around me. I sighed and relaxed a little bit. He patted my back carefully before pulling away. I smiled at him as he pulled back. 

Yellow box: She must be crazy if she liked a hug from us. 

White box: Or desperate. 

Blue box: Or maybe I had a really shitty day. 

“That must be the shitty-ish of shitty days.” Deadpool told me. 

“Want to hear about it?” I asked him. He made a delighted cooing noise and rushed to sit cross-legged in front of my chair. He clasped his hands firmly in his lap. 

“I love story time!” He exclaimed. I smiled at his excited grin. I cleared my throat and paused to think of how to begin.

Blue box: Now this is a story all about how my life got filled turned upside down. And I’d like to take a minute, just sit right there. I’ll tell you how I came to sit in this chair.

Yellow box: Oooo. 90’s reference.


	3. In which our intrepid heroes get all the Tacos.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm not entirely happy with it, but it exists. Next time we get to meet Al. This chapter is pretty much flirting and tacos. Feel free to leave suggestions. Comments give this story life. I almost let it die, but you saved it.  
> Still no Beta. Sorry if I called someone a generous angle. Just assume its Deadpool messing with you. Or our other main character, who still hasn't revealed their name.

Chapter 3: In which our intrepid heroes get all the Tacos.

“And that’s how I ended up here.” I finished. I shrugged a little. 

White Box: It’s amazing how quickly that explanation flew by. 

Yellow Box: Almost like someone was too lazy to write it out.

“I’m so excited that you met my Lady!” Deadpool said, hopping to him feet. “Isn’t she gorgeous?” He asked. I avoided the chuckle at his antics and nodded in confirmation. 

Blue box: That is the sexiest skeleton that I have ever seen. Seriously; that rack.

“Breathtaking.” I agreed dryly, my lips pulling upwards. My stomach rumbled. Deadpool paused. 

Yellow box: She sounds hungry. Should we feed her?

White box: Maybe wine, candles, and dancing?

Blue box: Or Tacos?

He clapped excitedly and sprang to his feet. I had a moment to be impressed by the fact that it was a literally spring-like gymnastic move, before he grabbed my hand and pulled me off the chair. 

“We have to get Tacos.” Wade agreed. “All the Tacos.” I chuckled a little and shook my head slightly as I failed to hold in a smile. 

Wade didn’t bother changing out of the suit when we left the bar. He offered me is arm in an overly gentlemanly fashion. I took it, only to drop it when he got distracted by a cat in the alley. 

“Here Kitty!” He called out. The cat turned their tail up at him and jumped away from him. He whined in complaint. “Aw. Kitty.” I caught up with him and he showed me the way to a local Taco stand. 

“Cats will be cats.” I reminded him dryly. I was again amazed at how clearly I could tell that he was nearly pouting in through his mask. 

“But I just want to give the Kitty love!” Wade cried. I smiled a little and tried to contain the giggle. 

White box: Even the cat can tell how worthless we are. 

“Kitties always have important kitty business.” I said, half distracted by the White box. 

Blue box: If you don’t have anything nice to say, shut the fuck up. No badmouthing my personal hero.

Wade brightened up a bit. He took my hand I walked along at a brisk pace while he occasionally skipped beside me. It made me smile. 

“You are going to love these fuckin’ Tacos.” Wade informed me. “It’s like they were imported directly from this little town south of the border that I visited this one time.” He tugged my hand to make me keep up. “I had the absolute shits afterwards, but that was because of the water, I think.” They always tell you to drink 8 glasses of water. And I did, I tell you a guzzled the fucking stuff.” He dragged me towards a little Taco stand on the corner. I prospective customer backed away at the sight of him. “But water is what’s going to do us all in in the end. It has these little creatures in it and they have their babies inside you and their shit poisons you.” He came to a stop in front of the vender. 

The vendor was a middle-aged Hispanic man. He was slightly balding. His apron was well used, but well cared for. I could see that he had a little picture of what looked like him and his two little daughters taped to the side of the truck. His face in the picture was beaming with pride and happiness. Now it mostly looked like he was crapping his pants. 

“Can I get 12 Tacos with everything and extra cheese?” Wade asked cheerily. The man nodded frantically and started to put them together with shaking hands. Wade turned to me. “What about you, Princess?” I raised an eyebrow, but smiled.

Blue box: I have no tiara, therefore, I am not a princess. 

“I’ll have four with sour cream and cheese.” I ordered. Wade turned to the man. He mumbled his assurances and put together the Tacos quickly. 

Yellow box: We should get her a Tiara. Then we can call her our princess. 

Blue box: You should get one too. 

Yellow box: I’ve always wanted one!

White: Maybe she’ll be our pillow princess. 

Blue box: 3 dates before you can touch my princess parts. 

Wade whined. “But Mark Hoppus says that ‘the three-date theory is getting old.” He sang to me. I smiled pleasantly at the man making the Tacos. He was so nervous. “Don’t you know that ’everyone is getting left out in the cold?’” I glanced to the side to look at the man-child pout. 

“Jennifer Lopez once said 17.” I said. 

Blue box: Should I go with Jenny from the Block? Or did the Holy Trinity stop at the right number? 

He did a spit take. By the time he finished choking, the poor taco vender had our Tacos bagged and ready. I took the bag and smiled at him. I turned to Wade. “Are you going to pay the nice man?” I started walking away. Wade reached into one of his numerous pockets and threw an obscene handful of cash at the man before following. 

White box: She’s joking right?

Yellow Box: 17 dates cannot be healthy. Blue balls kill.

Blue box: Wouldn’t kill you. Time will tell if its 3 or 17. I made my last boyfriend wait a year.

“A year!” Wade cried. Despite his grumbling and theatrics, the hand that guided me through the streets was gentle. “My balls would shrivel up and die!” I laughed. I couldn’t help it. He was so distraught. He grinned at me. 

“You’ll find out after date number 3.” I teased. “Right now I’m more interested in eating all of the tacos.” He rolled his eyes and grabbed the hand not holding the huge bag of tacos. 

“Most of those Tacos are my Tacos.” Wade countered. 

“Of course they are.” I told him calmly. 

Blue box: If you eat them fast enough.

“I read that!” Wade complained in betrayal. I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing. Wade pulled me along into the apartment area. “You are going to eat my tacos.” 

Yellow box: Taco thief! The worst of the all the crimes.

Blue box: Except murder, rape, and wearing clear plastic clothing. 

“Well, duh.” Wade said, opening the door to an apartment. “Plastic clothing should be pastel colored and be in purse form.” I laughed again as he pulled me into the apartment.


	4. Marilyn Monroe wasn’t even her real name.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think this is the fastest I've updated ever. Comments give me life. If you're confused as to which version of Deadpool I'm following, the answer is 'yes'. I thought long and hard about a name, and then decided to go for the easy joke. Also, its like, the most common name ever.  
> No Beta. Just me, spell check, and a relatively useless assortment of master's classes in linguistics, that apparently mean nothing when it comes grammar and to putting a sentence together, or making sure it isn't a run on sentence like this one is.

Chapter 4: Marilyn Monroe wasn’t even her real name.  
If I could turn back time. If I could find a way. I would probably have just stayed in bed. 

As it was, I was competitively eating tacos with a costumed mercenary. He had pulled the mask up to his nose to eat, to which I had shrugged. It only confirmed that he really did look like Ryan Reynolds. Well, all scarred up. But I bet I could still cut myself on those cheek bones. 

We were both currently grossly shoving tacos into our mouths. I was on taco number 2. He was on taco number 5. I was impressed. I wondered if he could unhinge his jaw or something. 

Blue box: Do you even have a gag reflex? 

Yellow box: Nope. Do you?

Wade didn’t stop shoving his taco in his mouth as the box spoke for him. He just waggled his eyebrows. Bits of lettuce and sauce dripped from his chin. I almost sputtered with laughter, but swallowed the last of my taco as I reached for the next one. 

Blue box: Be a good boy and maybe you’ll find out.

White box: What if we’re a bad boy.

Yellow box: Girls like bad boys.

Blue box: They also like glitter, high heels, and gossip magazines. Do yourself a favor and stop trusting Cosmo. 

Yellow box: But I like Cosmo.

White box: Of course you do. You have no taste. We should read playboy. 

Blue box: I hear they have great articles. 

We both heard a sound from one of the two bedrooms in the apartment. Someone was either getting up, or someone was breaking in. Odds were even on which one, given who I was with. 

Yellow box: Al’s up! 

“I’d know that little patter of footsteps anywhere.” Wade said, spraying me with a fine mist of bits of lettuce, taco meat, and cheese. I wiped my face off with my free hand, but shrugged and kept eating. I was going to win, even if he got distracted. 

Blue box: For Sparta! 

Wade wasn’t even looking at me. He was finishing taco number 9 I think, maybe 10. He was twirling a knife in one hand, and watching the door. 

“You’ll love Al.” Wade told me, turning back with a grin. “She’s sweeter than mother’s milk and 50% less likely to try to kill you.” I swallowed. 

“50% less likely doesn’t sound encouraging.” I told him, half smiling, before shoving taco in my face again. Wade distractedly ate another taco. Dammit. 

White box: Is she angry at the taco? Should we be scared?

Yellow box: Maybe she’s really hungry. Or maybe she’s thirsty? 

“Juice boxes!” Wade announced. He reached under the IKEA coffee table and pulled out a couple of fruit punch juice boxes. I took one and opened it. I sucked it down quickly, grateful. We heard a small crash from the room. Wade giggled. He still shoved down the last of his taco as I reached for another. He reached into the bag and paused. I clutched the taco I had grabbed while he searched the empty bag. 

Yellow box: Where is the taco? 

Blue box: To the victor go the spoils. 

Wade narrowed his eyes at me and the last taco. My trophy. 

Blue box: Mine. It came to me. My own. My precious. 

Wade laughed, easing out of a fighting pose. I drained the last of my ‘My Little Pony’ juice box. Wade grabbed another juice box and sucked loudly on the straw. It was rainbow dash. 

Blue box: Taste the Rainbow. 

Wade looked down and did a spit take. All over my face and shirt.

“Wade!” I yelled. “That’s gross.” I threw the last taco at his head. He caught it of course, but it made me feel better. I wiped my face off with my shirt. “I’m going to go change out of this. I only have one other shirt, so I hope you’re happy.” Wade looked slightly chagrined. 

“You can just wear one of mine, Honey bear.” Wade countered. He sat up straighter when I opened my mouth. “You’re a Honey bear. Stop repressing my creativity.” I giggled before I stifled it. I grabbed my bag and headed for the bathroom. 

When I came out, and older black woman was sitting on the couch. If her sunglasses hadn’t reminded me she was blind, then Wade making faces at her would have. Half faces, anyway. He still had the mask covering the top half of his face. When he was me, he set his beer down and hopped to his feet. 

“Hurray! You’re back.” Wade exclaimed. He gestured dramatically to Al. Giving his best Vanna White impression, he presented her to the room. “This is Al.” He turned to Al and did the same thing. “And this is…” He froze. 

White box: You never asked her name, moron!

Yellow box: You’re the moron. Moron.

White box: Ask her then, fuckwad.

Wade looked chagrinned. “…A lovely girl with a totally wonderful name?” He finished. “Fuck. I’m a fuckwad.” Slammed his face into his hands. 

“Wow.” Al said, unsurprised. “You really are a douche.” 

“Shut it Helen Keller.” Wade said. His mask was back on fully. He was hiding. Adorable. 

“Maria.” I said quickly. Wade looked over at me. “My name is Maria.” Wade’s face slowly rose from the face palming. He hummed a few bars. I groaned, and did my own face palm.

“Maria.” He sang. I sighed and peeked through my fingers to watch. “Maria. Maria. Maria.” 

“And now he’s going to sing.” Al huffed. She stood up and walked around the posing Wade. 

“Maria!” He sang. “I just met a girl named Maria!” He tilted his head to the side at me. I managed to keep a straight face and look disapprovingly at him. He kept his arms out for an embrace. 

“You think that is the first time someone’s done that?” I asked, dryly. Wade’s face fell slightly. 

Blue box: Of course it’s the first time. You’re adorable and I want that hug. 

Wade beamed and approached. 

Yellow box: I knew she’d like it.

I gave in and accepted the hug. He wrapped his arms around me tight and squeezed. I huffed out a breath as it was pressed from my lungs in a laugh. Wade squealed with glee in my ear. He spun me around before setting me on my feet. 

Blue box: Can I keep you?

Yellow box: Isn’t that my line? 

White box: Yes. It’s a fairy tale. We get it. Do you realize that you are kneeling in a taco soaked with Sparkle’s juice? And Al spiked your beer with laxatives again.

“Damn it Al!” Wade yelled, standing up. He had been kneeling in taco. Al cackled.

“You moved all my furniture while I was sleeping!” Al yelled back. I started laughing quietly. 

“Only because it’s funny.” Wade complained. He sat down morosely on the couch. I sat down next to him. 

“You moved my bed while I was sleeping in it, Asshole!” She yelled back. Wade grumbled. He grabbed his beer angrily and drained it before setting it back on the table with a thud. I bit my lip. 

“You do realize that was the same beer.” I reminded him. Wade whined and put his head in his hands. 

“Fuck me.” Wade grumbled. I patted his knee consolingly. 

Blue box: Not yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think the ship name should be Waria. But that could be because it references the third gender concept. Also, women inhabiting men only spaces. Because I think that this couple and gender norms do not belong in the same sentence.


	5. Handshake from hell: My first mistake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 5 is now up. I hope to update once a week. This one got a little heavier than expected. Expect more light hearted fare next chapter. But I couldn't see Wade not testing it. There's a reason this chapter is called my first mistake. Wade was an idiot. His sense of acceptable violence is probably a little messed up. Comments feed me and give me life.

Chapter 5: Handshake from hell: My first mistake

“So you’ll help me?” I asked Wade. “I don’t have anywhere else to go.” Wade shrugged. 

“We have this flirty thing going on, and the author is obviously going for romantic comedy were the two strangers fall in love overnight. I wonder if we’re going to do the sharing a bed trope?” Wade asked. I shrugged. 

“As long as I don’t have to sleep with your suit.” I told him. He whined. I shook my head. “Mask is fine, but no suit.” 

Blue box: You are wearing a giant red condom. Peel it off and wash the ball stank off your tits. 

White box: She has a point. This thing smells like gangrene is dripping out your ass. 

Wade through his hands up in the air in dismay. I crossed my arms. 

“It’s my signature look.” He protested. I shrugged. 

“Then I can sleep on the couch.” I suggested. He stomped his foot in an accurate representation of a toddler. 

“You should.” Al put in. “His sheets haven’t been washed in months.” Wade made shushing noises. “Probably more semen than fabric at this point.” I made a face.

“Not cool Stevie Wonder.” Wade complained, whipping his head towards her to yell it. He turned back to me, trying to tilt his head and look adoringly at me. I held in a laugh. “It’s not that bad.” He insisted, taking my hand pleadingly and dropping to his knees. 

“I can smell it from the hallway.” Al yelled, going back to her room. Wade frowned. 

“You’re ruining this for me.” Wade yelled back, not looking away. “See if I describe the sex scenes for you next time we watch Titanic!” I bit my lip. “Ignore her. She’s senile.” He tried to whisper. 

“But not deaf!” She yelled from her room. 

“Not yet Hellen Keller!” He yelled back. I was amazed I hadn’t broken through my lip yet, holding in the laughter. 

Yellow box: How are we going to score if Al keep trying to cock block us?

White box: Kick her out? Duct tape?

Blue box: Wash your sheets? 

“Fucking hygiene.” Wade complained. “Fine. It’s not like we’re getting sick. He pulled out a knife with the hand not holding mine and casually flipped it in the air. “You too right?” I shrugged, confused. He tilted his head, looking down at our joined hands. “How fast do you heal?” He stabbed the knife through our joined hands, and pulled it out. I screamed and yanked my hand back. He watched his hand heal. I cradled mine in my uninjured one and stepped back away from him.

Blue box: What the fucking hell you mother fucker!

“Why would you do that?” I exclaimed. He watched his hand for a second longer then looked back at me. 

“You done yet?” He asked, excited. I looked at him, confused. He rolled his eyes. “Your hand. Is it healed yet?” I looked down at it and wiped away the smear of blood. The skin was already closed and pink. I showed it to him. He grinned and held his own hand up. He high fived me. “Awesome!” I looked up at him, betrayal across my features.

Blue box: For you maybe, asshole.

Yellow box: You heal about as fast as I do. That’s awesome.

Blue box: You stabbed me. That’s Motherfucking awful, you shithead. 

“I needed to know how fast you healed.” Deadpool said, starting to clean his knife. “That was the easiest.” I frowned. I gingerly sat in the armchair. 

“You could have asked.” I said, my voice quiet, and a little shaken. 

Blue box: Shitstain. You stabbed me. Oh, I know what will make the girl want to share my bed; stab her. Idiot douche canoe. Even Wolverine wouldn’t do that.

“Uncalled for.” Deadpool shot back. I crossed my arms and looked at him. 

Blue box: Oh yes, because I wanted to be stabbed for the first time ever on the shitty-ist day I have ever had by the one person I was trusting. Fucktard.

Deadpool drooped and dropped onto the couch. 

Yellow box: We’re a moron.

White box: I’m going to agree with Fucktard. I like it. Because it makes sense to try and convince a woman to come to bed with you but stabbing her. 

Yellow box: But she can heal, just like us. 

Blue box: Just because it will heal, doesn’t make it ok to maim someone. That was an asshole move. Also, abusive and traumatizing. Fucking say you’re fucking sorry and never fucking stab me again. Asshole. 

“I’m so fucking sorry.” Deadpool said, sad and contrite. His whole posture changed when I mentioned abusive. He slid down to his knees again and bowed his head. “I am the biggest asshole. Huge. Fist me and not touch the sides gapingly gigantically huge.” I sighed. 

Yellow box: She’s going to leave.

White box: She should. You’re an idiot. You hurt her. You are the worst person ever. You’re an abusive dickhead just like your father. 

“No, you’re not.” I said quickly. Deadpool looked up at me. “You made a mistake. You’re going to make it up to me and never do it again. Because if you do, I walk out the door.” He nodded quickly and repeatedly. I sighed again and uncrossed my arms. “

Blue box: How can I trust you when you won’t even show me your face?

Wade flinched. I flinched at his flinch. But he brought both his hands up and carefully pulled off the mask. I met his deep brown eyes. They were scared. He reminded me of a wild animal. He was far more scared of me than I was of him. I smiled slightly at him. He smiled slightly back. 

Blue box: Much better. 

“I will never hurt you again.” He promised, not breaking eye contact. His voice was low and rough and very commanding and his eyes were piercing. He was making a vow to me on bended knee. I shivered. 

Blue box: Not unless I ask for it. Because that voice just made me want to ask Daddy to spank me. 

Wade’s eyes glinted. He smirked. 

White box: Daddy would be happy to spank his Princess. 

Yellow box: I can’t believe that she said that right after seeing this shit show. 

White box: I can’t believe that you want to mess up a good thing. She’s cute, she’s funny, and she wants to be around us. 

Blue box: Damn right I do. I want to find out what is feels like to kiss those lips. 

Wade smiled. He opened his arms. 

Blue box: After our date.

“Fuck.”


	6. A Hug in a Cup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Find out how many dates Wade is going to have to wait. Find out whether or not Maria is a morning person. (Spoiler: No) More to come.  
> All mistakes are mine.

Chapter 6: A Hug in a Cup

The smell of pancakes woke me. I peeled open my blurry eyes and hummed. I heard a laugh from somewhere in the room. Rubbing my eyes, I pulled myself to a seated position on the couch. 

“Wakey wakey, Aurora!” Wade called from the kitchen. I hummed again and pulled off my borrowed blanket. 

Blue box: I don’t talk before coffee. If you try to make me talk before coffee, I will bite you.

“I might have coffee.” He said, after a moment. I grunted, displeased. I could hear him start to open boxes and rummage through cabinets. I leaned back on the couch and closed my eyes. “I think that I bought coffee this one night because I couldn’t get the Folgers’ song out of my head, and I figured that if I had the best part of waking up, than Al would stop throwing things.” I heard something break, probably glass. “Wasn’t me!” Wade denied. “It was the ninjas. They are always breaking into the place and breaking glasses and stealing my juice and my last pair of socks. That one could be Al.” I heard a tinny sound and Wade squealed and rushed to me. “Guess what I found!” I peeked an eye open and looked over to Wade rushing in. He was dressed in the full suit, sans mask. He was carrying Kool Aid. 

Blue box: No.

Yellow box: Yes.

“Oh Yeah!” He nearly shouted. I grimaced and shut my eyes. 

Blue box: Nope. I’m asleep until there is coffee. 

“Oh, I found the coffee.” Wade said. I creaked open an eyelid again as he showed off the can. “This stuff will kill you. Stimulants and narcotics are the Devil’s poison.” I closed my eyes again and willed myself to not have to pee. 

Blue box: Coffee is a hug. 

“That’s just you’re addiction talking.” Wade argued. I heard him moving around the kitchen again. “I’ll be your enabler today, but one day, we will stage an intervention.” I wondered what would make him bring me coffee. I levered myself off the couch. 

Blue box: I have to pee. 

“Go use the litter box, Miss. Kitty.” Wade said, waving me off. 

I was slightly disappointed that there was no litter box in the bathroom. I trudged back to the kitchen, hands still dripping wet after washing them. There was no towel. Three handguns and a bowie knife, but no towel. I could smell the coffee. Wade was busy at the stove as I walked in. He turned around and I looked at him blearily. He pressed a hot mug into my hand. I lifted it barely had a whiff before starting to swallow it down. 

Blue box: You are God among men.

Wade preened. 

Yellow box: Hear that: We’re a God.

White box: The God of what, poor discussions and disfigurement? 

Blue box: Coffee. Coffee and pancakes. 

Wade herded me to sit down and set a stack of pancakes in front of me next to some syrup. 

Yellow box: If it’s not real Maple syrup you have to revoke your Canadian citizenship. 

“Eat of this bounty and be nourished.” Wade pronounced. He dove into his own huge stack. I took a bite and smiled slightly at him. 

Blue box: This is at least a quarter date. Taco’s yesterday, maybe a half date. Play your cards right today and you might get you end of date kiss.

Wade’s mouth was wide open in shock. Bits of pancake were falling out. I swallowed roughly before bursting out laughing. I was getting the hang of this box thing. Just want to say it, but not, and there it was. I raised an eyebrow and smirked at him. 

“Yes sir ma’am Captain Mistress.” Wade stumbled. I winked at him. 

Blue box: No need to call me Mistress yet.

Wade let lose a guttural sound that made me laugh again. He smiled. 

“We are going to have so much fun.” He smiled. “Can’t wait to start.”

“Only 16 and a quarter dates to go.”

He whined like sad puppy.


	7. Congrats on finding that special Sugar Daddy.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm not entirely happy with it, but it exists. Next chapter will be longer, and from a new perspective. I actually got a second set of eyes on this, so thank to my husband for the lack of spell errors. If you find one, blame him.

Chapter 7: Congrats on finding that special Sugar Daddy.

“I’m taking you somewhere special tonight.” Wade announced, setting down his empty beer. We had just finished watching some Golden Girls. Wade had added his own color commentary throughout the whole thing. “Wear something pretty.” He bounced up to throw out the empty beers. I frowned.

“Do you want me to wear the black shirt you spit up on, or this one?” I asked dryly, spreading my hands to show him the purple tie dye shirt paired with elephant pajama pants. “And I can switch back to jeans, or wear these.” Wade frowned.

Blue box: I’m broke dude. Did you expect Armani? 

“Shopping!” He squealed. “Be my Julia Roberts? I have a red wig you could borrow.” I raised an eyebrow. 

Blue box: Is this how you’re paying me for not having sex with you?

Wade gasped and put a hand over his heart. 

“This is strictly fulfilling my own fantasy.” He told me. 

Blue box: And maybe a desire reenact the bathtub scene?

Yellow box: We do have “Kiss” on our Walkman for a reason.

“Are you offering to spend obscene amounts of money on me in exchange for no sex companionship?” I asked, tilting my head. Wade nodded. 

“I’m gonna be your sugar daddy. Give you honey all my money.” Wade sang. 

Blue box: Nice falsetto. 

Yellow box: Thank you. I took classes. 

“Then I suppose I have to accept.” I said, shrugging. 

Blue box: It’s what every little girl dreams of. 

White box: And some little boys too.

“So, montage?” He offered. 

“Montage.”

Blue box: Preferably to the tune of Shopping by Barenaked Ladies.


	8. I’m with crazy.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's a take from an outsider's point of view. Don't worry, the boxes will be back. This is just a taste of what it's like to everyone not in the know. Thank you to my wonderful husband who let me bounce this off him. Thank you to everyone who read, and a special thank you to every Comment. You give me life. Toodles!

Chapter 8: I’m with crazy.

David sighed as he unnecessarily straitened the stack of shirts for the third time. With less than an hour left before his lunch break, he was checking the clock religiously. The store was empty, and he and Hannah were the only ones in on the shift at noon on a week day. He scowled as the track list started repeating again. Hannah insisted that Nirvana was essential. 

“It’s important to support the local businesses.” The man who pushed open the door to their shop said, his voice chipper. David sighed in relief that there was a customer. He looked up to see a man in a black ball cap with a dark blue hoodie, head angled away and completely covered. He held the door open for a female 20-something brunette, possibly Latina. She was wearing what appeared to be a man’s army surplus coat with old jeans and boots. With her hair in a no nonsense braid and no make-up, he wondered if they had come to the right place. 

“You have to take better care of your clothes.” The girl said in a slightly amused tone, stepping inside as the door closed behind her. 

“They also sell Pin-up clothes.” The man promised. He turned and gestured to the racks of the clothes around them and David got a good look at his face. He gulped and looked down to compose himself. He straitened the shirts for a final time. When he looked up, Hannah was greeting the two customers with a smile. She did have the better poker face. 

“We also have styles for Rock N Roll, Punk, and Gothic.” She told them professionally. There was a reason she was the manager. “What can I help you find?” The girl glanced up at the scarred man questioningly. 

“I buy whatever you want.” He promised her. Hannah smiled wider in anticipation of a large sale. The customer rolled her eyes at him.

“I do like leather.” He said, like he was responding to her eye roll, after quietly gazing at her for a moment. The woman rolled her eyes again at him before turning to Hannah with a polite smile.

“I’d love to see a little bit of everything.” She said, gesturing around slightly. “I need quite a few things.” She shrugged and smiled a little self-depreciatingly.

David could practically see the dollar signs in Hannah’s eyes. Hannah led the woman around the store, checking out various styles and choices and gathering various pieces to try on. The scarred man wandered around the store, sporadically commenting on the clothing and styles as he went, whether or not the woman could hear him. He was standing looking through underwear and humming along to the overhead music. He examined a pair that was mostly strings. The woman passed him with Hannah on the way to the fitting room again.

“Maria!” The masked man whined. “That’s just not fair!” The woman, Maria, chuckled as she stepped into the fitting room. Hannah came back to the counter with the first set of purchases. Hannah kept an eye on the scarred man. He was muttering to himself as he gathered a small handful of seemingly random clothing items. 

“What is up with crazy?” Hannah said quietly, nodding her head at the scarred man. David shushed her. The man in question appeared to be having a discussion with a mannequin about proper BDSM etiquette. 

“Think the girl’s using crazy for free crap?” He whispered. Hannah shrugged. 

“As long as he doesn’t try to rob the place.” Hannah whispered back. 

Hannah handed over rejected items to be put back. David sighed but did it. The man was exclaiming over the stitching on a corset. David tried to ignore the man and work around him. 

David held in a girly scream when the man pulled out an 8 inch black kabar knife from the pocket of his hoodie. He did not, however, keep hold of the three hangers he was holding. He glanced down at them and when he looked up, the scarred man was looking at him like he was strange. 

“Are you OK?” He asked, twirling the knife once. David swallowed. The man used the combat blade to pick out something from under the nails of his other hand. “Are you having a seizure?” He seemed concerned, or at least interested. David shook his head slowly. The man shrugged and slid the knife back into his baggy hoodie. David let out the breath he was holding. “Aren’t you going to pick those up?” He asked, pointing at the three shirts he had dropped. David quickly retrieved them and mumbled excuses as he backed away, quickly hanging them up at his retreated to the desk. 

Hannah was organizing the purchases. David grabbed her arm and put his mouth to her ear. 

“Crazy has a knife.” David hissed. Hannah froze slightly, eyes zooming in on the man. Crazy was calmly comparing two identical leather collars. Hannah looked at him with both eyebrows raised and pulled her arm free of his grip. 

“He’s fine.” She said, straightening up. “Harmless.” As they both watched, he lifted the collars to the light, raising his arms enough that his waistband could be seen, along with the gun tucked in its holster. Hannah gasped. 

“I think I’m all ready to check out.” Maria told them, dropping three last items on the counter. Both of them looked at the smiling woman quickly before glancing back to Crazy. He was walking over to them with his hands full. They looked at each other in alarm. 

Crazy put 2 collars, a pair of panties, a glove, a lacey headband, a slip, and a pair of thigh highs on the counter, carefully. 

“I’d like to get these to.” Crazy asked. Smiling. David swallowed, wide eyed. Then Crazy hiked up his hoodie slightly and reached behind him. Hannah made a choked noise and David closed his eyes. “How much?” Crazy asked. David opened his eyes to find Crazy holding a very stuffed Hello Kitty Wallet. 

Hannah recovered first. She quickly started ringing up the purchases. Maria turned to Crazy.  
“Wade?” She said, expectantly. 

“I didn’t do anything.” He promised. He held up two fingers. “Scouts honor.” Then he looked at the fingers and frowned. 

“Really?” Maria asked. David blinked and tried to calm his heart rate.

“The writer forgot that until after she wrote it and then left it in anyway.” Wade said, shrugging. David frowned, wondering what was going on. Maria just nodded like that made sense. 

“I know, right?” Wade said, responding to her nod. “It’s like we’re not in control of our own lives.”

“You’re too pretty to be a nun.” He added, responding to an eyebrow raise. David was confused. Maria chuckled. 

“Nuns are allowed to be pretty too.” She told him. Hannah was finished scanning and was bagging. David helped. The faster these two left, the better. 

“Oh, I forgot to feed you!” He said, smacking himself much harder than necessary. Maria shrugged. 

Hannah stuttered out an obscene total. Wade forked over a handful of hundreds that looked more obscene. Maria and Wade each grabbed an armful of bags. 

“You didn’t mention Tacos, are you OK?” Maria asked looking at Wade, who was now looking to be only one of the crazies.

“You said we couldn’t share a fitting room.” Wade pouted. Maria laughed and left as Wade opened the door. 

“Fine, but ice cream after?” Maria asked, out of nothing. She was crazy too. Wade shut the door behind them. 

Hannah looked at David. David looked at Hannah. 

“I’m taking lunch early.” He announced. Hannah slumped over the counter and nodded. David unclipped his badge and wondered if it was time for a career change.


	9. That special furry friend.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's it is. I have ideas for the next installment, so tune in next week. I apologize for any errors: my beta didn't get a chance to read it and I am super impatient. Thank you all for helping me with this outlet for my terrible sense of humor.

Chapter 9: That special furry friend.

Blue box: Are we there yet?

I adjusted my much warmer coat over my new clothes. I was wearing leggings and a skirt, which was a new experience. But Wade had argued that he got to choose the stores, and it was cold, so leggings it was. The boots where definitely kickass and awesome. 

White: Not unless we’re going to the mortuary. 

The two of us were walking in a less than reputable part of the city, headed to our first date. I was pretty sure I was going to give him at least quarter credit, no matter what, not that I was telling him that. 

Yellow box: I remember that mortuary!

“This on time…” He began. 

Blue box: At band camp.

Wade cackled. 

“That phrase is never going to be usable again.” Wade bemoaned. 

Blue box: Just like Who you gonna call? 

“Ghostbusters!” We both said, loudly enough that a man down the street turned to look and stare. 

“Oh. My. God.” Wade said haltingly. 

Blue box: Becky. Look at her butt.

Yellow box: It’s our BFF! 

White box: Big Furry Friend. 

“Wolvie!” Wade yelled, practically skipping down the street to him. He took my hand and half-dragging me along. Wolverine waited for him to get there, eyebrow raised. He neatly sidestepped the hug Wade tried to bestow upon him, letting him hit the wall behind with a smack. I giggled, covering my mouth with a hand. He turned his eyes to me. I gave him a little wave. 

“I’m Maria. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I greeted after I quickly regained composure. “What would you like me to call you?” I smiled politely, just like I was taught. Wade groaned and turned around.

Blue box: Wolverine? James? Logan? Captain? Grumpy?

Wade burst out laughing. He clapped a hand on his friend’s shoulder. 

“I think Grumpy is a good name. He’s my favorite Dwarf.” Wade went for another hug and Wolverine’s claws extended into his side, stopping him in place. Wade didn’t even grunt. He just pulled himself away off the claws. Wolverine looked at me and nodded. 

“Just Logan, little lady.” He nodded to me in greeting. He retracted his claws and jerked a thumb at Wade. “Why are you with this mess?” He asked, a little curiously, and a little concerned, seemingly about both of us, but mostly gruff. 

Blue box: He’s my sole solace in a world where I have no other family or friends. 

Yellow box: Does this mean I can call you my girlfriend?

Blue box: Yes. 

“Awesome!” Wade said reaching over and pulling me into a hug. I chuckled and hugged him back, avoiding the katana. 

“This is my boyfriend.” I told Logan with a smile, still chuckling slightly. Logan nearly smiled. I could tell he wanted to. Wade pulled away and linked our pinkies, swinging them between us. I could tell he was grinning. 

“I get to be a Sugar Daddy.” He fake whispered. I smiled wryly. 

“Only until I have more than $14 dollars.” I admonished. Wade looked slightly scandalized. 

Blue box: Right now I’m broke and homeless without you. 

“I’ll want a job eventually, at least to make me feel like better.” I shrugged.

Yellow box: But then you’ll leave. 

Blue box: I am not with you for your money. 

“Well, you’re not with me for my looks.” Wade argued. “This is a shit show.” He gestured to his face and body. I frowned. 

“You’re not ugly.” I said, narrowing my eyes at him. Logan looked between us, amused. 

“I look like a burn victim.” Wade said, throwing his hands up. I put a hand on my hip, unimpressed, and looked between the two of them. 

“I guess I just want a man that reminds me of my father then.” I said, pointedly. 

Blue box: He had a little more in the way of hair, but less in the way of working eyes and lips.

Wade froze. 

“Really?” He asked. I nodded. 

Blue box: Not that I want you because you’re like my father, because I like you the way you are, but your face isn’t melted, so…

“You really don’t mind the scars?” He asked. I moved towards him and wrapped an arm around him, avoiding the guns. 

“They kind of remind me of home.” I answered, tentatively. 

“That is the best thing that anyone has ever said to me.” Wade said, putting a hand in the small of my back. I smiled.

Blue box: And like I said, you’re ribbed for her pleasure. 

I winked. I was getting the hang of the boxes. Just want to say it, and it was there. I couldn’t see them, but Wade had confirmed that they said what I wanted them to. The inconvenient ones were the ones that came out unconsciously. 

Blue box: I wonder how you’ll feel under my hands. And my mouth. Can’t wait to taste you. Hear you babble while I suck you down. Want to hear what you’ll say.

Wade growled a little. Crap, apparently like that one. He tugged me tightly against his chest and I could hear his heart thud.

“Can I take that back?” He asked, amazed. “That was the best.”

“You’re just as crazy as he is, aren’t you?” Logan asked bemusedly. Wade nuzzled my head with his masked one and hummed an affirmative. 

Yellow box: You’re not as crazy as me. I’m buckets of crazy.

Blue box: My box talks to you. I’m plenty crazy.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I chuckled, turning my face to look over at Logan and smile. “Don’t normal people do this?” 

“Hug masked armed men in the middle of the street?” He said, crossing his arms. “Or talk to each other telepathically?” He looked at me, waiting. I frowned and pulled back from Wade slightly. 

“I’m not a telepath.” I said confused. 

Blue box: I broadcast my thoughts. Isn’t that the opposite of a telepath? 

Yellow box: You do read my boxes. 

Wade raised his eyebrows, meeting my eyes. Which was amazing, as he was wearing a mask. Most expressive mask ever. 

Blue box: But only the boxes. I can’t read any other thoughts or anything. 

I rolled my eyes and pouted. 

White box: I think we’re all just special snowflakes. Special, brain-damaged snowflakes. 

Logan watched us and grunted. 

“Sure.” He grunted. “You’re not a telepath.” I nodded. 

Blue box: Just an inter-dimensional traveler with a healing factor and telekinesis. 

White box: It was amusing watching you tie that drug dealer’s shoelaces together at lunch. Too bad he only fell on his ass. 

Yellow box: In front on an officer.

White box: And his drug packets spilled out in front of him. 

I grinned. He grinned back. Logan’s eye roll was so pronounced that I felt a disturbance in the force.

Blue box: Horrible coincidence that I definitely did not engineer.

“You should meet the professor.” Logan recommended. I turned to look at him. I furrowed my brow and thought for a second. 

Blue box: What if there really is something wrong with my brain? 

Wade touched the side of my face with his gloved hand. 

“Then we’ll really be twinsies-4-eva.” He said seriously. I turned to Logan.

“I’ll think about it.” I promised. Logan nodded, then looked to Wade. 

“I needed a drink.” Logan said leadingly. Wade grinned. 

“I know the perfect place.” He said conspiratorially. 

Blue box: Tonight is going to end in destruction and wreckage, isn’t it?

Yellow box: Not necessarily. 

White box: You’re right. It could end in explosions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I wrote our guest well enough. Comment about any other's you might want to see. Thanks for reading. Remember, Comments are life.


	10. Don't you wanna kiss the girl.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Does drinking with Wolverine count as a date? Will Wade get his kiss?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two Chapters in two days. I have no life right now. None. I'm staying with family, and all they want to do is watch TV. Procedural Crime Dramas are best served in small doses. So you'll probably get another chapter or two by the end of the week. Maybe more chapters, if we stay longer. Hope you like. Comments are love and food and make me want to keep writing.

Chapter 10: Don't you wanna kiss the girl.

“That was awesome.” I told Wade, walking down the empty street. The night was starting to kiss the day, and it was blushing all over. 

“I still think you should have let me teach you how to play pool.” Wade bemoaned. I chuckled. 

Blue box: You just wanted to bend me over the pool table dry hump my ass.

White box: ‘Dat ass, baby. ‘Dat ass.

Yellow box: Best ass I’ve seen. 

Blue box: Because you haven’t seen yours in spandex bent over a pool table. ‘cuz… yum. Makes me want to buy a harness. 

“I already have one.” Wade informed me. “You can use it anytime.” He made a wink so exaggerated I could tell through the mask. Again, what was up with the mask being to expressive. It had to be magic. Maybe it was one of his mutant powers. “I’ve been a bad boy, Mistress.” He nearly simpered. 

Yellow box: Spank me and punish me. Ride me hard and put me away wet.

Blue box: Maybe… I want my good boy to earn his reward. I bet you want to be good for Mama. Right Baby Boy? 

I raised an arched eyebrow and Wade whimpered and his knees buckled slightly before he caught himself on my elbow. I held him up with a laugh as he got his footing. 

“And I’m out.” Wolverine said, reminding me of his presence. I looked over my shoulder at him ruefully. He raised his eyebrows at me, unimpressed. He took a puff of his cigar and flicked off the ash. 

Neither he nor Wade showed a single sign of the copious amounts of alcohol that they had imbibed in the past 6 hours. The fourth bar to cut us off had done so at about 5am, and none of us staggered out. I lost track of how many drinks I had drunk at 26 or so, and I was still walking. I wasn’t sure how much was sleep drunk, and how much was the last 6 shots. 

Blue box: Can I even get drunk anymore? I feel faintly buzzed at best. 

Yellow box: Give it five minutes, that’ll go away. 

White box: If you want to get drunk, try moonshine and a funnel. 

“Time to say goodbye.” I said, chuckling at Wade. He was right, the buzz was going away fast. 

“Paesi che non ho mai!” Wade sang, gesturing wildly and spinning to face Logan. Wade put his arms at wide to receive a hug. Logan rubbed his right wrist with his left hand meaningfully. Wade reconsidered, and held out a fist. Logan smiled and gave Wade a fist bump. Wade smiled widely, mask stretching. I held out my fist as well, tentatively. 

“Do I get one too?” I asked. He chuckled. 

“Whatever you want, little lady.” He bumped my fist, as well, though not as hard as he had Wade’s. I grinned at him.   
Blue box: We’ll be like Shawn and Topanga. Because there is no way you’re not Cody. 4th wall breaks, darker story lines, and comedy. 

Yellow box: Don’t forget the adult jokes!

“I’ll leave you two to stare at each other and laugh at nothing, then.” Logan said, shaking his head and walking away. 

“By Wolvie!” Wade yelled, waving. He waved until Logan turned out of sight. Then he held out his hand. “Home?” I nodded. 

Yellow box: And maybe I’ll get lucky?

We walked the short walk home. Well, I walked. Wade mostly skipped, and raced around. He kept up a mostly one sided conversation the entire time, mostly about Wolverine and is awesomeness. 

He opened the door when we got to the apartment, ushering me in before the sun hit the door. 

Blue box: Does that make me a vampire? 

Yellow box: Only if you now have a craving to drink mouse blood from wine glasses in New Orleans. 

Blue box: I don’t think I have the right pallor for it. 

“White pasty vampires are boring.” Wade said, shedding a few weapons off. “Give me a Wesley snipes in tight black leather any day.” I smiled. 

Blue box: Or out of black leather. 

Yellow box: Maybe just the pants. 

White box: ‘Dat ass, baby. ‘Dat ass.

Yellow box: You already used that joke. I think the writer might be getting Alzheimer’s. 

Blue box: That’s horrible and ablest. She’s probably just blond. 

I yawned, then walked over to Wade, shucking the coat on the couch and stretching. He followed the movement.

“Daddy like.” Wade said, delighted. I chuckled. 

“Does Daddy want a kiss?” I asked. I purposely licked my lips and smirked up at him. His gaze dropped to my lips. Or I assumed it did, because he still had the damn mask on. I stepped forward again, getting myself in arm’s reach. 

Blue box: Take the damn mask off so I can kiss you. 

The mask was off and in his hands nearly instantly. His brown eyes were locked back on my lips, flickering nervously up to my eyes. I stepped forward and he slightly flinched. I smiled. 

“There you are, handsome.” I said huskily. He looked like he was going to argue, so I put my finger to my lips. His mouth snapped shut. 

Yellow box: You don’t have to say that. 

White box: I know we’re ugly. But tell us pretty lies. 

Yellow box: Just kiss us.

“I will.” I promised. “Sit on the couch.” I ordered. He moved a swiftly as he could, sitting ramrod straight in the middle of the old soft, slightly sagging, thing. I smiled down at him and turned to him. 

The room was nearly silent as I carefully put one knee on his right side, avoiding guns, and then on his left side, avoiding guns and knives. His eyes were open in shock and his eyes were on mine. I was nervous, but I couldn’t let him know. He would probably think it was because of him.   
He licked his lips and I sucked in a breath. Two days. Two damn days of wanting to kiss him. Two days. Ok, more like 36 hours. But still. 36 hours of constant company. 36 hours of teasing. Mostly from me. I couldn’t take it anymore. 

I leaned forward and braced my right hand against the back of the couch, bring me close enough to share Pina Colada and Cosmopolitan scented air with him. 

My lips brushed across his gently. His lips were softly textured, wet, and warm. They sent shivered down my spine. 

With a little whine, Wade surged forward. One hand pressed into the small of my back, holding me close as he moved his lips across mine again in the same gentle touch of lips. I sighed into the barely-there touch of his lips. His tongue came out and gave my bottom lip a little kittenish lick. I groaned and pressed my lips firmly to his. 

My tongue chased his into his mouth, coaxing it out to play. He groaned into it and his second hand moved into my hair to guide me into the kiss. My free hand caressed the side of his face, cupping one warm cheek carefully, but firmly. His tongue curled around mine and I moaned to feel the texture rubbing and twisting into my mouth and out. 

He tongue fucked my mouth making us both moan at the parody of sex it made. His hand on my lower back pressed me closer and I gave back my own little licks into his mouth, testing the waters and reveling the feel of him. He was wet and hot in my mouth, and hard against me. In more than one way. 

I rocked forward slightly, and Wade gripped my back tightly and groaned into my mouth. I gasped and trembled a little, but kissed back. But Wade was already slowing the kiss. I whined, and pressed into for another kiss as he pulled back. He into the kiss before pulling back again. 

“Maria.” He said huskily. I nearly growled at the tone of voice. I went back in for another kiss. He kissed me back, but pulled away for the second time. I sighed and sat back in his lap, looking at him. He met my eyes earnestly. He looked weirdly serious. My brows furrowed in concern. I bit my lip and his eyes glanced quickly to the movement before locking onto my eyes again. 

He looked amazing. Slightly flushed and panting. Lips reddened just the tiniest bit. His eye were heavy and his pupils were wide. I wanted to kiss him again, and stared at his lips. I leaned in slightly, but his hand in my hair stopped me. 

“Maria.” He got my attention again, his voice, clearer and much more serious than I had heard him before. I met his eyes, concerned, and stopped leaning towards him. 

Blue box: What did I do wrong?

Wade smiled and shook his head. He took his hand out of my hair and ran his hand gently down my cheek. His thumb traced my bottom lip. My eyes fluttered closed for a moment. 

“Maria.” He said gently, trying to get my attention. I opened my eyes to find his meeting mine. His face had soft lines, but he was still serious. 

“Hmm?” I asked, intelligently. He gave a smile that was a little soft upturning of his lips. 

“Are you a virgin?” He whispered. 

Blue box: Crap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is she? Isn't she? What does this mean?


	11. How do you solve a problem like Maria?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is Maria a virgin? Yes and No.  
> Spoiler/Trigger Warning: PG discussion of underage rape. Very PG, nearly G.   
> Also, Nuns and Vampires. Not at the same time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! New Chapter. Still don't have anything else to do, and they keep making me write paragraphs. This was not my plan, but it wrote itself. I feel like I built a sandbox for them to play in and they decided to play poker in it and I don't know why. That's what you get when you play with two people who are not nuero-typical. 
> 
> Also, translations are at the end.

Chapter 11: How do you solve a problem like Maria?

“So you are a virgin.” Wade said, answering his own question. I sighed, not looking forward to this conversation. 

“Thank you for letting me know I suck at kissing that much.” I tried to joke. I didn’t get off his lap, but I did swing my leg over so I was no longer straddling him. The mood was broken for now. I leaned and put my head against his collarbone, not looking at him. 

Yellow box: You were so hesitant, but curious. 

White box: The way you whined you were either a virgin or a desperate slut.

Wade wrapped an arm around my back to support me easily. I didn’t look at him, just read his boxes in silence. The light was barely on in the apartment. 

“I don’t know how to...” I began, and trailed off. Wade stiffened a little.

“You should learn with someone better than me.” He told me flatly. I poked him in his hard stomach and most just hurt my finger. 

“My choice.” I reminded him. “Was I not forward enough?” I grumbled. He laughed. 

“You straddled me and stuck you tongue in my mouth wearing a skirt.” He joked. “When are you going to the cloister?” He joked. I groaned. 

“The nun joked are never going to stop now, are they?” I groaned. He hummed an affirmative. 

White box: Run before you despoil her. 

Blue box: Been despoiled. Uncle Tony took care of that. 

“What do you mean?” Wade asked, voice tight. I tried to nuzzle closer, taking comfort in the smell of leather and sweat. I hid my face in his chest. 

Blue box: Uncle Tony was a funny Uncle. Liked to play games. Just once when I was little. 

“Where is he so I can kill him?” Wade growled darkly. I laughed humorlessly.

“You do remember I’m not from here, right?” I barely more than whispered, in the dawn light from the windows. “And besides.” I said, patting his hand where it gripped my leg overly tightly. “He died years ago. Slowly. From Prostate Cancer.” I smiled at the thought. “In jail, where he belonged.”

“I suppose it will have to do.” Wade grumbled. I shrugged. 

“He died 20 years ago, I’ve made my peace with it.” I said. 

White box: 20 fucking years ago! How old were you?

Yellow box: He better have fucking suffered. 

Blue box: Five. Reported him the same day, he died 2 years later. 

Wade was angry. The hand gripping my leg was bruising me, and I held in the gasp of pain. It would heal. 

“Did my time in therapy.” I told him. “Very sure it’s not my fault. Very sex positive, but a few trust issues.” I shrugged, trying to get him to drop it. 

Yellow box: So why me?

Blue box: We are literally reading each other’s thoughts. I have very intrusive knowledge of your life from an outside perspective, complete with your inner thoughts. I’ve seen you kill rapists and abusers.

“I trust you.” I said staying close and toying with the collar of his suit. I brushed my fingers over the skin of his neck slowly and carefully. He shivered. 

White box: She really is crazy. 

Blue box: Crazy about you. 

My stomach made a sound that was somewhere between a rumble and a roar. I blushed a little as it continued for a least a minute, getting louder. 

Blue box: So… I think I’m hungry.

Wade laughed. It was a little tight, but it was loud and real. I smiled and held in the sigh of relief as the grip on my leg eased up. The pain faded in seconds and I kept my self from rubbing it as I felt the weird sensation of the speed healing. 

“Pancakes?” I suggested. Wade stood, lifting me in his arms as he did. I squeaked and through an arm around his neck in surprise, which made him smile. 

“I will make you the best pancakes ever.” He announced, carrying me to kitchen. I giggled as he set me on the counter. I grabbed his hand as he went to pull away. 

“Kiss me?” I asked, giving him a patently fake pout. He chuckled, but leaned in and kissed me carefully, before pulling back. “Kiss m…” I was interrupted by a yawn. Wade smiled. 

Yellow box: Bed time for mi Princesa. 

“Pancakes?” I asked. 

Blue box: And maple flavored kisses. 

Yellow box: More kisses when you’re awake. 

Wade lifted my off the counter again, bridal style. I wrapped an arm around his neck and covered my next yawn with the other. 

“I’m not that tired.” I complained. It sounded a little bit whiney to my ears. My head was a little too heavy, and my eyelids with drooping, now that I didn’t have adrenalin keeping me going. I laid my head on his chest and sighed happily. 

Yellow box: And I’m a Proactive model. 

Wade gently set me down and tucked me under the covers. I closed my eyes and rubbed them with one hand. He chuckled lowly and ran a hand across my hair. I hummed. He ran his hand through my hair again before pulling away. 

“No.” I complained reaching out to grab his hand. He avoided my clumsy grip easily. I pouted and looked up at him plaintively. His lips had a slight uptick, but he shook his head. 

“Go to sleep, Princesa.

Blue box: Not without my besas de buenas noches. 

Wade chuckled and leaned down to give me a chaste little kiss that made me hum happily. 

“Buenas noches.” Wade said, his voice velvet in my Mother’s tongue. I smiled. 

“Night.” I whispered, eyes closing. 

Blue box: Goodnight Mi Media Naranja.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations from Spanish:  
> Mi Princesa - My Princess  
> Besas de buenas noches - Goodnight kisses  
> Buenas noches - Good night  
> Mi Media Naranja - "My half orange" (Or, culturally, the one who completes you as your other half)
> 
> At this rate you might get a chapter every day this week.


	12. Give Me Breakfast In Bed.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More kisses to come.   
> Warning: Starting to earn the E rating, and there will be more and more, at least if either of them have anything to say about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three chapters in three days. And I've already started another. Time will tell If I can get Four for Four.

Chapter 12: Give Me Breakfast In Bed.

I woke up to the sound of a shattering crash from the next room. I shot up, only to start falling off the edge. I grabbed on and scrambled back up with a grunt. I groaned and resettled, scooting back from the edge. 

“She’s awake!” Wade yelled from the next room. Which, looking around, would have to be the living room. By the door to the bathroom there was a bust-like punching-thing. Multiple used target sheets decorated the walls, all with clustered shots. Mostly of smiley faces. It appeared that the wall had been shot multiple times as well, pitting the surface. 

The room also had a desk space, that was chaotic, but appeared to have stacks and some sort of organization. Maybe. An Ikea bookshelf was filled with random-looking books that spilled out to be stacked next to it. There was a dresser with clothes peeking out of the top drawer and suit parts on top. There was another dresser with ammo on top, that was much more organized and all the drawers were closed. I was not surprised to see that the ammo dresser was bigger.   
I was also unsurprised to see the Golden Girls poster on the wall. 

Wade was mumbling from the other room and there was another crash, which I now was pretty sure was a glass breaking. I heard Al too, probably cursing at Wade. I scooted up against the head board of the bed and leaned back on the pillow. 

I picked at the freshly washed sheets and blanket, before grunting and leaning back. I closed my eyes and considered going back to sleep. I breathed in deep, relaxing in the scent of gunpowder and sweat with lingering Chili, Cumin, and Garlic. 

“Good… Morning!” Wade nearly shouted as he burst through the door. I gasped and opened my eyes wide as I tensed. 

Blue box: Fuck. Heart attack. 

“Impossible.” He shrugged it off and nearly sauntered into the room. His mask was off. I was pretty sure that was a good thing. Then I saw the tray in his hand. He had brought me breakfast in bed. 

Blue box: Can I keep you?

Wade laughed, and set the tray over my lap. When I say tray… It was really the top and two sides from a piece a furniture, about two feet wide. On top of the ‘tray’ was a stack of perfect pancakes, syrup, a peeled banana, and coffee. With all the food was a little repurposed empty mayonnaise jar into a vase for what looked like plastic Lilies in water.

Blue box: Wonderful Ambrosia! You’re my favorite person.

Wade smiled at me. I attempted a smile back, but don’t think I managed much of one. 

Yellow box: Told you she’d wake up if we made her pancakes.

White box: Too much longer asleep and we’d need to check if she was dead. 

“We might have had to kiss you awake!” He said excitedly. I pursed my lips upward for a kiss. 

Blue box: Kiss? 

Wade leaned in and gave me a smacking kiss on the lips. I smiled. 

Blue box: I like kisses. More kisses. 

Yellow box: After breakfast.

I pouted, but nodded and started eating. He watched me eat, and moan at the taste of my pancakes and coffee. He was wearing the most casual thing I had ever seen him wear in front of me: I tee shirt and a pair of jeans with an open zip-up sweatshirt. He had his arms crossed in front of his and was looking down with a fond expression. I smiled up at him and took a drained the rest of my coffee. I set the cup down with a sigh. 

Blue box: I like the flowers. 

White box: We found them in the funeral drawer. They were left over from our last funeral surprise visit. 

Blue box: Still like them. 

I adjusted in the bed and looked for somewhere I could more the tray. Wade solved the problem by lifting it up and setting in on his clothes dresser. He turned at I held my arms out to him. 

“I believe I was promised more kisses.” I said. He grinned and flung himself on the bed. I let out grunt as his landed half on top of me. His hands were carefully braced so as not to squash me, which was appreciated. He looked down at me, amused and thankful. 

“I can’t believe you want more kisses.” He told me as I adjusted myself so that my legs were on either side of his. 

“Hottest kiss I’ve even gotten.” I promised him. 

Blue box: A couple of lack-luster dates and a mediocre boyfriend were all disappointing compared to you.

White box: Because they weren’t horrifically scarred and crazy?

Blue box: Because they weren’t crazy like me. Because they didn’t kiss me like I was the only thing in the room. 

“Because you’re… you.”

“Maria.” He breathed, pressing his head close to mine and rubbing his nose across mine, before pulling back and giving it a little kiss. I crinkled my nose, but smiled. 

“Please.” I begged breathlessly. Partly from the closeness and tension, partly from. “Kiss me again?” He gave a little growl and crossed the short distance. 

I hummed as his lips met mine, quickly crossing the line to a bit wet and a tad dirty. His arms held himself above me as he delved into my mouth like a starving man. I spared a brain cell to ponder when the last time he had had someone to kiss was. Then it was gone as his tongue rolled in my mouth and he practically purred. 

My hands clutched at his back, trying to get him closer. He held himself up and pressed into the grip of my nails into his back. I moaned into the kiss as it brought his hips close to mine. My right leg wrapped around his hips and he made a grunt of approval. 

His lips trailed kisses down my jaw to my neck, sucking and soothing the whole way. When his teeth scraped over my pulse my hips bucked into his. I moaned as he soothed and laved to spot with his tongue. 

“Wade.” I moaned, as he scraped his teeth down again. I ground my hips into his hard, to feel the line of his hardening cock. He growled again, sucking and biting down to my collar bone. 

“Wade!” I moaned louder, bringing my hand up to clutch at the back of his head. He scrapped his teeth over my collar bone. 

I groaned. I rubbed myself on him, reveling in his touch. Every movement, every kiss, everything reminded me of who I was kissing. It was a relief. Wade had me. 

Wade ground his hips, tucking them securely in between my open legs. I held the back of his neck firmly and guided him back to my mouth. I swallowed his moan and nipped his bottom lip. His mouth opened to let me in and I used my lessons. 

He growled low in his throat when I rolled my tongue in his mouth. His hips bucked when my tongue did a playful imitation of fucking up into his. My nails slightly scraped the back of his neck and he practically purred. His cock was a hard line against me, hot and tempting. 

But nerve racking. I shivered and Wade slowed the kisses until out lips were barely caressing. I sighed a little as he pulled back. He smiled down at me. 

“If you want me to get up, you’re going to have to stop trying to become my newest fanny pack.” One of his hands came down to touch where my legs were still wrapped around him. I bit my lip and looked up at him. “Unless you want me to stay?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t not want you to stay.” I said, teasingly. 

Blue box: Penis is scary. But sexy and I want it but I’m super nervous and please don’t make me talk about it. 

He chuckled softly and pushed a leg down so he could roll to the side. 

“I believe I owe you 16 and ¼ dates.” He reminded me, laying down next to me. I smiled and turned to face him. I licked my lips. 

“14 and ¾.” I corrected, running a finger over his lips. He furrowed his scarred brows. 

Yellow box: You have strange math. 

White box: Stop complaining. 

“How?” Wade asked out loud.

“Last night was our date, even with its third wheel.” I told him. He seemed to accept that. “Then you brought my breakfast in bed. There’s another half of a date.” Wade smiled. 

“Whatever math you want.” He promised. 

White box: Speaking of math, did you know it’s Sunday?

Blue box: How long did I sleep!


	13. Wade Wilson: Life Coach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade gets to help Maria decide what to do with her life. And there is coffee, but not enough coffee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to update. There should be another one sometime next week. There is already a title and a plan, but Maria and Wade have a tendency to derail any plans I make, so who knows. I even have things plotted for the next 5 chapters at least, but again, who knows. Maria keeps revealing her backstory to me. Turns out, she's actually a bit of of jerk?   
> Remember, Comments feed and give this story life. Kudos water the ideas and make them grow. Much love to all of you who read this.

Chapter 13: Wade Wilson: Life Coach

“30 hours isn’t possible.” I countered, flopping on the couch.

“We could have played a brass band through this living room yesterday and you would have snored through it.” Al informed me. She seemed to be trying to clean the counter with a sponge. A sponge that was leaving blue streaks behind it, that she was feeling and getting increasingly frustrated by. Wade had his hand over his mouth, watching and trying to keep in the laughter that racked him with full body convulsions. 

Blue box: I know that last night… well… the last time I slept, I only got an hour, but seriously?

Yellow box: We thought it was adorable. 

White box: Even the drool. 

Yellow box: And the time you threw a pillow at us when we tried to wake you. 

White box: And the alarm clock. 

“It really was amusing to see you try to throw the lamp.” Wade told me, watching in amusement was Al found the clay Wade had put in the sponge. She threw it at him. He side stepped out of the way, letting it hit the floor. 

“Fuck you, Wade.” Al said, putting her hands up in defeat. “You can clean the kitchen then.” 

“Love you too, my little Star-nosed Mole!” Wade called after her as she went in to the living room to watch TV. He didn’t even turn away from me as I sipped my third cup of coffee. I sighed in contentment as I took a deep breath of the acrid smell. Cheap coffee was still coffee. 

“Did I hit you with it?” I asked, caught between amused and concerned. 

“It hit the end of the cord like a fish and flopped to the ground with a splash.” Wade said, making grand hand gestures to explain. With sound effects. 

White box: You told it to fuck off and stop stealing your pajamas and mow the pool. 

“It reminds me of that time that this cranky old Duke, that may have been a duchess, hired us to take out this group of guys that kept trying to climb her ivy and were destroying her lovely azaleas.” Wade said. 

White box: Probably had more to do with the semi-automatic weapons being fired at her bedroom window. 

“But the azaleas!” He exclaimed. Al turned up the TV, and Days of Our Lives played at full volume. “They were the prettiest azaleas, all red and white, and possibly rhododendrons. We took some with us when we took out the bad guys.” He shook his head sadly. “No respect for gardeners.” 

Blue box: What does this have to do with the lamp?

“Well, there I was, rhododendron in hand.” He explained, hopping on the table next to me. “And this guy takes a shot at me with a grappling gun.”

Yellow box: Because they ran out of bullets.

“And it shoots into my gut and I go over the side of the building like a penguin.” He says. “Flying on Eagles wings!” He nearly shouts. “Then I’m at the end of the line and splat: Fish Tacos for dinner.” 

White box: Such a pain to pull that hook out. 

Yellow box: Good pay day though. 

White Box: Not as good as tomorrow’s will be.

“You’ve got a job tomorrow?” I asked, draining the coffee cup. Wade grabs it and starts pouring me another without being asked. 

“Teeny little assassination.” He admitted. “Barely worth mentioning. But the guy keeps selling these cute little gummies in Strawberry and Pineapple and Grape and it’s an affront to nature to sell grape flavored anything. It doesn’t taste like Grapes. It’s a big lie.” I was confused, but didn’t want to interrupt.

Blue box: Why does he have to die? 

“Because this little fucker thinks it’s OK to sell these to kids, or kids keep getting them.” He said, plopping the coffee in front of me. “And they’re full of nutritious amphetamines.” He nearly growled his displeasure. “Nobody sells that shit without consequences of the stabby variety.” He didn’t make eye contact, his body waiting for a blow. 

“Now I feel lazy. I need a job.” I said instead. He looked surprised. 

Blue box: And I need an alarm so I don’t have to ever fucking consult a fucking calendar when I wake up ever again.

“I thought you were going to be my Sugar Baby?” Wade pouted. I shrugged. 

“Then just a part time job to keep me busy.” I suggested. 

Blue box: Kept women do volunteer work, but fuck the poor. I need to feel useful. I’ve been working since before I was 16. 

“How am I going to get a job without references?” I asked, thinking hard and taking a sip of coffee. 

Blue box: Or ID.

“I’ve got a guy.” Wade said vaguely. “Besides, you’ve got a reference.” I looked at him quizzically. He spread his arms. “Me.” I couldn’t fight the smile. 

“So what job do you think you could get me?” I asked. Wade rubbed his hands together gleefully. He hopped down off the counter and grabbed a notepad and pen. 

“What career path would you say most interests you?” He asked, looking over the top of it at me, hairless eyebrows raised. 

Yellow box: We are going to kill this career counseling thing. 

“I’ve done a bit of this and that.” I said, amused. It was a near constant state of being with Wade, I had found. “Started out at a grocery store, but I’ve been anything from a bar-back to a telemarketer.” Wade lowered his pad and looked insulted.

“I’ve done some terrible things, but I’ve never sunk as low as telemarketer.” Wade said, slight disgust in his voice. 

Blue box: There is a reason I only lasted 4 hours before rage quitting. Never even talked to a real person.

“That almost makes it OK.” Wade said, amused. 

“Yeah, it didn’t last.” I admitted. 

Blue box: Lasted longer than my stint as an exotic dancer. 

“Exotic Dancer?” He said, intrigued. “Show me more.” He asked. “I’ll have you know I’m a connoisseur of such things.” 

Blue box: Lasted about an hour before smashing a guy’s face for trying to stick his hand up me like a puppet, as he put it.

“Did you break his hand, at least?” Wade asked, angry. I nodded. 

“Hand and nose.” I admitted. 

Blue box: I may have used a bar stool. There may have been an arrest that never went to trial.

“You go girl.” Wade said, asking for and receiving a high five. 

Blue box: Better than therapy. And it got me a job as a part time bouncer and bar-back at this awesome bar. 

“I know a bar you could work at!” Wade exclaimed, clapping. I smiled, keeping in the eye roll. 

“That sounds great, Wade.” I said instead. 

Blue box: Stop being adorable or I might have to kiss you again and I have coffee breath. 

White box: Not a deterrent, I promise. 

Yellow box: Give me some sugar, baby.


	14. Semi-charmed life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maria has a job interview. Wade is going to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday to me! In honor of my birthday, I wrote a little chapter earlier that I was going to. Another one to come.   
> As always, Thank you for commenting and giving kudos. You give the story life and feed my fragile ego.   
> Name a Marvel character you would like to have a cameo of in the comics, and I will see if I can fit them in.

Chapter 14: Semi-charmed life

“So you’re that crazy crying woman that Wade found outside and now wants to bang.” Weasel said, trying and failing to cross his arms casually while looking intimidating. He missed and had to look down. I glanced over at Wade quickly. 

Yellow box: Like a screen door in a hurricane. 

“He tells me you have some experience behind a bar.” Weasel said, distrustfully, tilting his head to look at his bar. 

“I was a bar back for a year.” I told him. Weasel whipped his head around. 

“How do you make a whiskey sour?” He asked quickly, staring me down. 

“1 oz of lemon juice, ½ oz of syrup, ½ oz egg white, and 2 oz of bourbon.” I rattled off. 

“And an old fashioned?” He tried next.

“2 parts bourbon of 1 part syrup with a couple dashes of bitters.” 

“Gin and tonic.” He arched an eyebrow.

“1 part gin to 3 parts tonic, more if they complain.” I raised my own eyebrow. 

“What do you do if there’s a fight?” He asked frowning. 

“Have them take it outside and let them kill each other away from breakable things.” 

White box: What kind of bar did you work at?

“What do you do if someone orders a piña colada?” Weasel asked. 

“Un-ironically?” I asked. He nodded. “Tell them to go home, they’re trashed.”

“How do you fix a clogged sink?” He quizzed. Uncrossing his arms.

“Get the plunger and the snake and pull out the paper towel that some idiot put down there.” I said quickly. “If that doesn’t work, get a pan and clean out the P-Trap. My dad’s a plumber. Takes 10 minutes.” Weasel slapped a hand down on the bar. 

“You’re hired.” He said. “For your first act as the new bar back you can fix the bathroom sink.” 

Yellow box: I’ve peed in that sink. 

White box: You might want to fix the toilet.

Blue box: The urinal too?

Yellow box: Nah, this guy ripped it off the wall a couple of years ago to try and steal it or something. Ended up passed out in a pool of vomit and piss.

Blue box: Charming. I’m just glad that the worst thing about your bathroom is the tower of empty toilet paper rolls, more like carefully designed castle, on top of the cabinet. 

“Castle Charmin Ultra is the best part of that bathroom!” Wade informed me at high volume. I chuckled. Weasel looked between the two of us. I controlled the laughter and turned to Weasel. 

“Just show me the tools you have and I’ll see if I can have a working bathroom for you by tonight.” I told him. I ran over everything my dad had taught me, basic though it was. I had handywoman status, not plumber status. 

Yellow box: You’re like teen heartthrob JTT, following The Tool Man’s steps.

“Too tall.” I reminded him grabbing the slightly dusty tool box from Weasel. I looked him in the eyes. “I’m on the clock now?” I checked. He nodded. 

“You’ll get your money.” Weasel promised, already walking away. “I need more sane people to hang out with.”


	15. On the Night Shift.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maria has a job now. Hurrah!  
> Unfortunately, her first night isn't stress free. 
> 
> Trigger warnings for threats of rape and violence against women.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its been a little longer than I hoped, but here's a new one. I should apologize for my grammar, but I'm going to say it's a 'stylistic choice in keeping with the character.' Or impatience in waiting for my beta to look it over.  
> As always, comments and kudos are life. Every time someone comments, I write like a page or more that day: its like a drug. Much love to all of you, whether you feed my new addiction or not.

Chapter 15: On the Night Shift.

“That same table is calling for another round of shots,” I told Weasel, setting down some used glassware. It had been a long night so far, but I had about an hour to go. Wade had left earlier in the afternoon for his job, telling me he’d be done in time to pick me up and take me to breakfast and all the coffee I could drink. 

I had spent the hours before the bar opened successfully fixing the sink. The toilet was a job for another day. It needed to be replaced completely. I could do it with some help, but Weasel didn’t get his hands dirty. As I learned when cleaning became my responsibility. Such as the many loads of glassware that I had done. 

Blue box: Do you ever do dishes, or anything besides make drinks and witty comments?

“Tell the Three Amigos that they have to pay first like everyone else, I don’t care who Daddy thinks he is.” Weasel handed off a couple of beers to the pair of big men waiting for them. 

“But you have their word,” I reminded him. He nearly snorted in derision. “And I’ll remind them if you get me back up if they get aggressive.” I inclined my head. “The blond one told me I needed a lesser in respecting my betters last time, and I have a life goal I like to call: Don’t get shot in a shady bar.” 

“They pull a gun?” He asked, looking them over. I shook my head. He relaxed. 

“Just tapped it while the littlest musketeer played with a knife.” I raised an eyebrow. Weasel frowned. 

“If it gets around you can attacked in here, I could get attacked in here.” He paused. The two bear-like men were still at the bar, listening in obviously. Weasel looked at them meaningfully. “Plus Wade would get pissed if his girlfriend ended up dead on my watch.” The two men nodded and stood up slowly. I looked at them and smiled. 

“Thanks boys.” I told them. I led the way over to the table, the two hulking men at my back. 

The three men at the far table had ordered at least 5 shots apiece. The three men had the same overly large nose and strong jawline, but that was where their similarities ended. The biggest one was big and brawny and blonde, and might have even been attractive, were it not for the perma-scowl and facial scar he had tried, and failed, to cover with make-up.

The second and third both had black curly hair. The second was the shortest, maybe 5’7” in heels. He looked a like a growing puppy with an oversized mouth and big hands. Hands that had tried to pull me into his lap three times, and then had played with a knife while undressing me with his eyes. The third looked like your average white guy, the type that blends into the crowd. 

“The bartender would like be to tell you that all drinks must be paid for in advance.” I was polite and as calm as I could be. The two big men stood close enough to my back that I could feel heat radiating off them. “May I take your payment?”

Blue box: Fuck you, you little Triumvirate of twits. I hope your wandering hands get crushed in a freak accident, possibly involving also getting hives all over your faces. 

The littlest of the men stood up, hands clenched in fists. The big blond one stood behind him. He was surprised to discover that the two men behind me were taller and he paused. The little one didn’t notice. 

“Is our word not good enough for the bastard?” He spat out. He took a step forward and the man to my left neatly step around me and in front between us. Two men and a woman at the table next to them turned in their seats. The blonde man moved to back up the other and I was suddenly behind a wall of muscle. The next table stood up too, hands on weapons.

“I think you’d better leave,” said one of the men. “You’ve had a few too many.” He voice was even deeper than I expected, and made the blonde man bristle. The third brother stood, calmly. He put a hand up placating, and smiled. 

“I think you’re right,” He said amicably. “Come on, Isaac, Kyle.” He indicated the way through the small gap and path the men had made. “Let’s go home.”

“Our father will hear of this, bitch,” The smallest one, Kyle, tried to growl at me as he passed. Unfortunately, his voice wasn’t low enough to pull it off. 

Blue box: Shut up, puppy. You’re going home with your tail between your legs. 

“I am sorry, miss, for my bothers.” The nicer brother’s voice was apologetic. He followed Isaac, bringing up the rear. Turning, He dropped a couple of bills on the table. “For your trouble.” His smile didn’t meet his pinched eyes. The bar was tense until the three walked out. 

\-----///----- 

Wade was late. He was supposed to pick me at 4 am from the bar. I waited around for an hour, and gave up when Weasel started locking up. I bid him goodnight, and started walking to my new home. 

Blue box: I wonder how many pieces Wade is in… 

On that depressing note, I shoved my now full hello kitty wallet (A gift from Wade for my new job) in my bra for safe keeping. The walk back to the apartment wasn’t far, but I decided to make a small detour into a drug store for the essentials I didn’t want to but with Wade the other day. 

I shoved the small bag of purchases into the purse Wade had bought me and stabbed it across my body. I braced myself against the cold wind. The sun was coming up on the horizon, what I could see of it. 

Blue box: Is it PC to hate Skyscrapers? Where are the trees and green things? I miss tree rats. 

Not to mention how I missed my family. Mom and Dad would probably be heart broken about now. Their youngest child, killed in a car accident, so young. At least they had my older brothers to help get them through this. Just because I wasn’t close to them, didn’t mean that they couldn’t be. 

“Look what we’ve found,” Said an amused voice behind me. I whirled around to see Isaac from the bar smirking at me. I froze for a moment, then turned and to run. Only to pull up short when I saw Kyle right in front of me. He grabbed my arm and nearly tossed me into a nearby alley. When I hit the dumpster, I felt my arm crack and I yelled out in pain. I heard a laugh. 

“Not so tough now are you?” Kyle teased. Kyle and Isaac framed the entry to the alley way. I started to get panicked. I didn’t have a knife, or anything. My arm was fixing itself, but I used the other one to grab a strong-looking stick of some sort. I scrambled back and to my feet. 

I heard that same laugh and watched as its owner rounded the corner. 

“Oh, good.” He smiled. “You’re a fighter.” The third brother had the same amicable expression on his face. Like herding women into alleys was something he did every day. I got a better grip on my makeshift weapon, which turned out to be a thin metal pipe just over a foot long. Better than nothing.

“I like it when they try to fight back.” Isaac said with a chuckle. Kyle pulled his knife and advanced. Isaac advanced with him. 

I backed up, but they kept coming so I planted my feet and stood my ground. Better than being trapped in a corner. 

Blue box: Nobody buts baby in a corner. Not even these fuckers. 

“Such a little whore, aren’t you.” Issac said, coming at me on my left. He didn’t even bother with a weapon. His mistake. He went for me with his hands and I swatted them aside with then pipe before kicking him hard enough in the crouch that I hurt my own foot. I bashed his face with the pipe and stepped back. 

One of Kyle’s hands gripped my jaw while the other pulled his knife to my throat. 

“You’re going to pay that, bitch.” He whispered in my ear.

Blue box: Wade! Please help me!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The cliff hanger should be resolved tomorrow. Stay tuned.


	16. Superhero Landing!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And, as promised last time, here is the other side of the cliff hanger. Maria is held at knife point in an alley. Who will save her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who reads. Comments and kudos are life. Let me know who you want a cameo of in the comments.  
> Sorry about the grammar, but this time I can blame my Beta. Who is wonderful and please don't stop doing it.

Chapter 16: Superhero Landing! 

When we last left our story, our heroine was in quite a fix. Stuck in an alley with no way out, her odds were grim. She clutched the pipe in her trembling hand, and prayed for a heroic and kind savior. 

White box: Too bad she’s stuck with you.

Yellow box: Shut up, I’m telling the story.

Who would help our fair maiden? What hero could save the day?

Suddenly there was a strong, manly, voice from above. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll save you,” the man said. Cool steel glistened in the darkness of the shadows above. The lady below nearly swooned in her captor’s arms. 

“Thank God!” she gasped, rejoicing. The villain tightened his hold on her fragile neck, and the knife pressed closer to bite at tender flesh. Our hero grew angry. 

“Look out!” He called.

He leaped from his perch. He landed crouched and ready for action, his fist hitting the ground in a preview of how his fists would hit their faces. He took a breath to prepare for the fight ahead. 

White box: You mean you called out ‘Superhero Landing,’ then shattered your leg on the pavement, after which you cried.

Yellow box: I didn’t cry.

White box: Yes. Yes you did. The little one laughed so hard I thought he was going to piss himself. 

Yellow box: He deserved to get shot.

Our mighty, and not at all crying, hero pulled his pistols from their holsters and fired on the villain. In an impressive display of superior marksmanship, it shot right next to the knife, shooting it out of his hand. That hand would never harm a lady again. 

White box: Not without some major reconstructive surgery. 

Yellow box: He should have some cosmetic stuff done at the same time. That nose was ridiculous.

“Run if you know what’s good for you.” He threatened, voice a growl. The blonde assailant tried to pull a gun, only to be shot in the offending arm. Which was totally what he was aiming for. Our hero, the great and famous Deadpool, rose to his feet. 

White box: One of them. The other was still kind of just, hanging useless and limp, just like other things usually do.

Yellow box: Uncalled for. They pissed themselves in fear.

The trio of thugs ran in the face of his many and awesome skills. The rescued lady rushed to her suitor’s side. Her wide eyes were in awe of his heroic deeds and she thanked him profusely. 

White box: And then her box told us to sit down before we fell down. 

Yellow box: But then she kissed us, so I don’t care. 

As the sun rose on the city, the two embraced. There kiss will be recounted through the ages as one of the most pure and beautiful things in history. 

White box: Was that before or after she wrapped her legs around you and you practically dry humped her on the ground of a back alley?

White box: Before. Duh.


	17. Meat candy makes my mouth water.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is porn. Non-penetrative porn, but still, porn. Be warned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not only porn, it is my first porn. Please tell me how I did.   
> Three chapters in two days, because I had nothing else to do. Seriously. I went to the grocery store out of boredom.  
> Comments and kudos are life.

Chapter 17: Meat candy makes my mouth water.

Wade pulled himself together in the alley after kissing me breathless and wanting. I had gone into the bathroom to change, only to come out to a breakfast feast. Wade had made me apology pancakes. Which was ridiculous, because who makes apology pancakes after saving someone?

Blue box: Is that bacon?

Yellow box: Damn right it is. Meat candy at its finest. 

“Bacon and pancakes is a good as you can get without being Mexican,” Wade said seriously. He had taken off the suit to put on non-bloody clothes and a frilly apron, but had kept the mask on. “I wonder what bacon tacos would taste like.” He pointed at me. “We are abso-posi-lutely making those tonight.” He flipped a pancake onto a plate. 

“How was the job?” I asked. Wade grinned through the mask and started in on his topic, warming to it as he went on more and more. He gesticulated widely and emphatically, punctuating each stab with an obligatory motion. We chowed down on the pancakes and food. Wade ate three time as much as I did, and I was no slouch. He made he laugh until my sides ached with it. I smiled at him fondly while he set our dishes in the sink. My eyes strayed to his sweat pants, and I considered my leggings. When he turned around I was smirking. 

Yellow box: What did we do? 

Blue box: It’s what I want you to do with me. 

White box: That sounds promising. 

“With the life-saving, and the pancakes, and the job, you have 11 dates to go. Take off the apron and the mask and join me in the bedroom.” I gave him an exaggerated wink and turned, hoping he’d follow. 

Blue box: Come on, get the hint. Come dry hump me till I come.

I heard scrambling behind me as I entered the bedroom. Before I could reach the bed Wade was pressed up against my back. His lips pressed against the side of my neck pressing wet kisses and nipping there carefully. I hummed in pleasure and held the hand that had slip around my torso. 

“Wade!” I moaned, when he nibbled a bit on my ear. He chuckled in response. His hips pressed into my ass, already well on the way to showing me just how hard he was for me. 

“Yeah, baby girl,” he growled. “You want something?” His big hands gripped my hips as he pressed his erection into my ass, hard. I groaned. 

“Fuck yeah,” I said. “Pants stay on, but everything else is negotiable.” I told him. He hummed in acknowledgement. 

“Maybe get that shirt off you so I can suck those nipples till you beg me to make you come?” I shivered and pressed back against him. “Hmmm.” He grinned and licked a small stripe up my neck. “I think you like that, don’t you baby?” 

“Yes.” I shuddered. “Please yes.” He growled as I begged. He manhandled me around to face him and captured my mouth in a kiss. And what a kiss. 

He possessed my mouth. Desperate kisses on both our sides. Clutching at each other. He lifted me easily and I wrapped my legs around him again. His cock lined up perfectly with my clit and the head of his dick pressed into me, making me gasp into his mouth. He went to pull away and I wrapped my legs tighter around him and whined. He pulled his mouth away and started kissing my neck again. 

“Don’t worry baby girl,” he whispered. “I’ve got you.” I gasped for air, a little overwhelmed. He took the couple steps to the bed and lay us both down on top of it, his body covering mine and his dick rocking perfectly against me.

“Fuck.” I bit out. “More.” I was begging and I knew it. I didn’t care. “Please, just more.” I grabbed the hand that was rubbing my side and brought it up to my breast, lifting my shirt in the process. He groaned when he felt the bare skin on my breast in his palm. 

Blue box: Hell yes, proper planning and seduction. Thank you Playboy.

Yellow: I told you they have great articles. 

We both started laughing, Wade tucked his face into my neck and huffed out each laugh. He calmed down a little and kissed me much more sweetly. We both smiled into the kiss. 

Blue box: My boobs are porn worthy, don’t you think?

“Baby, all of you is porn worthy,” he promised me. His hand caressed my breast and flicked over the nipple. I moaned a little. 

“I’ll take my shirt off if you take off yours.” I arched my eyebrow in a dare. His lack-of-eyebrows scrunched together in thought and I pressed my chest into his hand enticingly. He licked his lips and stared at my boobs. 

Blue box: I could get on top of you and you could play with them while I ride you to glory?

White box: That. Let’s do that.

“Yes, ma’am,” He assured me he stripped his shirt off and casually flipped us over, showing off a lot more muscle control and strength than I was expecting. 

Blue box: Fuck that was hot. 

I lifted my shirt and Wade rushed to help me get it off. Somehow, it took even longer to get off with four hands involved. I think the groping and mild tickling had a lot to do with it. 

“You’re in trouble, Mister,” I teased, tossing the shirt over in the general direction of my stuff, all currently shoved under a table. Wade took the distraction as an opportunity to move us up the bed so that he reclined on the pillows, practically eye level with my breasts. 

“Daddy like.” Wade licked his lips again and looked up at me for permission. 

Blue box: Fuck yeah.

“Yeah.” I said breathlessly. He leaned forward and licked the tip of one breast and then the other. I gasped at the sensation. I rocked my hips, trying to get the right angle on his rock hard dick. 

Blue box: Suck my tits, baby. 

He growled. He grabbed my hips and pulled me tighter against his dick before going to town on my breasts with tongue and teeth. His grinding trusts caught the head of his dick on my clit just as he sucked hard on my right nipple. 

“Wade!” I gasped, throwing my head back. My hands came down to his chest. I rocked my clit hard on his dick through the thin fabric of my leggings and his sweat pants. My hands slid over the textured surface of his toned and hard stomach and chest. They were taught and hard as he leaned forward and ran his teeth over my left nipple before soothing it with his tongue. I moaned again and rocked harder and harder. 

I lost track of his hands at some point. One grasped my left breast and massaged it while the other ran down my side and back, pressing me closer. I ground down hard and fast onto his clothed dick as the heat and pleasure mounted. 

“So close.” I whimpered. He grunted back and his hips rocked up into mine in a harder rhythm. His fingers pinched my nipple and he laved the other with his tongue. His nails ran down my back, leaving thin red lines. 

“Come for me, baby girl,” Wade begged. “So close.” His hips jumped again and his fingers gripped my moving hips, helping them along. “Wanna come with you.” He gripped the other side of my hips too and started humping up against me in an imitation of fucking. Then he kissed me and I was pushed over the edge into orgasm. 

I nearly shouted his name into his mouth, and he groaned into mine. I could feel the growing wetness between us as our pants got more soaked and I came down. Our kisses went from hard to soft and he sighed happily. 

“We are going to break the bed when we eventually round home base,” Wade teased, relaxed and smiling. “I should look into what kind of supports Captain America puts on his bed.”

“Are you implying someone defiled a national icon?” I teased, laying down on his chest. 

“It would be criminal if no one had,” Wade argued. I laughed and snuggled closer, if that was possible, yawning. “Have fun sleeping in the wet spot.”

“You are the wet spot.”


	18. Just another Manic Monday.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At long last, a short interlude on the lovers to be. Semi-lovers? Where is the line? This chapter is smut free, sorry, but not innuendo free. Ha. In-your-end-o. Sorry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. It turns out that work is something I have to do if I want to eat and stuff. More to come. I have the next about... oh... 9 chapters... all planned out. Wade and Maria like to derail those plans. Now that I am back in the swing of things at work, I plan on updating every weekend. You will get a second update this weekend as a special three day weekend gift. Love you all. Comments are life, and I will respond to you, because you feed my fragile ego.   
> I am, at heart, not much of a grammar Nazi. I more of a 'let's pick one part at a time to work on' type person. My students appreciate it. My readers... time will tell. My beta/husband is forever in my debt. Sorry, slip. I'm forever in his debt.

“I still need to buy conditioner and things.” I told Wade, trying to brush my hair out after my shower. The damn brush had been one Wade had had lying around, for some reason. Did he forget sometimes he was bald? Did he use it as a back scratcher? Ball scratcher? I had cleaned it thoroughly just in case. 

We had had lunch at home, and Wade had been the perfect host. He made sandwiches cut like various dinosaurs so we could set up a mock battle, then devour the corpses of the fallen. He seemed paranoid about taking me out in public, though. 

Blue box: Have you been spanked with this brush? Is that why you have a hairbrush? Or do you go full teenage girl and bring out your inner diva? 

Yellow box: There is no shame in letting lose my inner Mariah. 

White box: Except for those who have to pretend they don’t know you.

Blue box: Meany. I’m sure you sound wonderful. We should Duet. 

“In the shower.” Wade hopped on the other side of the bed, making me nearly bounce off. “Great acoustics.” I chuckled, but agreed. 

Yellow box: Especially for when you’re screaming my name.

Blue box: Too bad I already took a shower today. 

“We should take another shower, just to be sure.” Wade said. “Doubly clean.” 

White box: I could help you wash your ass, among other areas. And I prefer to use my hands. 

“Wash cloths are overrated.” I agreed. I finished putting my hair up and out of the way. “But toothbrushes aren’t.” I raised an eyebrow. “And I need one.” Wade hopped up and tossed me a notepad and pen. 

“Make a list, check it twice.” He started rooting around his pile of clothes. 

Yellow box: And add condoms to the list. 

White box: And lube. 

“Let me know if I should be naughty or nice.” Wade winked. I threw his hoodie at him. He caught it, looked at it, and put it on. I scribbled away. 

“When are we leaving?” I asked. Wade tutted. 

“I am leaving when you’re done with your list.” Wade grabbed his ball cap. “You are staying here and getting pretty. Sorry: prettier. So I can take you out to dinner later.” 

Yellow box: And so you’ll stay nice and safe and sound. No douche canoes trying to kiss you. 

White box: Just us.

“Keep Al company,” Wade said, taking my list as I offered it. “I think she’s starting to go insane. Or start a book group. Don’t let her help you with your make-up. She always overdoes the rouge.” He slid on the ball cap. “Daddy’s got to run a little errand, but I’ll be back soon.” He was wearing a few more guns than I thought he needed to go to the store. 

He paused at the doorway, before turning back and nearly jumping into my lap to straddle me. I let out an ‘oof’ and shifted slightly so that his handgun wasn’t causing me pain as it dug into me. 

“I almost left without my goodbye kiss.” He exclaimed, excitedly bouncing. I laughed and tapped his chin. 

“Hard to stick my tongue in your mouth with a mask in the way.” I told him. He pouted. I smirked. “We could play, guess what flavor of candy I just ate?” Wade whipped off the mask. I threw a hand back to steady us. 

“Did you steal from Daddy’s secret stash?” He asked. “Because you might be watching you hand move for the next hour.” I shook my head, but smiled in amusement. 

“Label your drugs, Wade.” I admonished. “We could get a label maker and label everything we want to.” 

“We could label my dick.” He said. 

Yellow box: My anaconda. 

White box: And you’ve got buns, hun. 

Blue box: Print out a bunch of labels that say dildo and label random things in the grocery store. 

Yellow box: Because everything is a dildo if you try hard enough.

“Don’t talk, just kiss.” I ordered. He leaned in and gave me a peck. 

“We’re beyond words and sound.” He kissed me again. 

“Don’t talk, just kiss.” I slid my free hand around to his back, sliding it right above the Glock tucked into the waistband. He wrapped his arm around me.

“And let your tongue fool around.” He kissed me deeply. He pulled back and sang the next line out loud to the ceiling. “Oh, let’s fool around.” He dove back in for another kiss, this time with rather a lot of tongue. 

Yellow box: Ooh. Banana. Yummy. 

He was late leaving, for some reason.


	19. Adventures in communication

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's been a miscommunication somewhere. Maria has a visitor while Wade is out shopping. Who could it be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one day. I was bored.   
> Comments are life. I will respond and chat.   
> Sorry for any and all mistakes.

I plopped myself down on the couch with my coffee in front of me. Al was busy putting together something over in the other part of the living room. I took a deep drink of nearly scalding hot heaven. 

“So, Al.” I took another drink because I couldn’t help myself. Al was still tinkering with whatever it was. “What are you up to?” Al didn’t even pause. 

“What does it look like I’m doing?” She asked. She straitened a plywood end and started screwing it in. “Which one of us is the blind one?” I chuckled. 

“What piece of furniture are you building?” I turned in place and faced her work area. “Wade just said to let you work, he didn’t say what you were working on.” Al huffed. 

“Typical man.” Al complained. The piece she was screwing into fell down. “Fucker.” She picked it up again. “This is going to be your new dresser.” It the other side fell. “If we had just gotten the Kullen I wouldn’t be having this problem,” she grumbled and started again. 

“Thank you?” I wasn’t sure what else to say. She seemed to have it covered, possibly. At least she would provide entertainment. 

“Just clean your coffee cup.” I looked down, and sure, enough, it was empty. 

Blue box: This must be one of those special powers people get when they lose one sense. I had just stood up, when there was a loud knock on the door. I set my coffee cup down and went to answer it. 

Blue box: Holy Shitake mushrooms, that’s Colossus. 

Just him being here made my want to censor myself even more than usual. He ducked his head down to peer inside the apartment. 

“Hello. I vas vondering if you vere Maria.” His accent was just as thick as I thought it would be. I nodded. 

“Yes, sir, giant person, sir. Sorry, sir.” Why did I call him sir? Crap. Now I’m nervous. I could see his teenage partner/trainee person behind him. He stepped back, and I could hear the scrape of metal.

“You need to kome vith us. Now, please.” He gestured with his hand for me to come out. “I don't vant make scene.” I nodded. 

“No problem.” I spoke back to Al as I left. “I’m have to go out for a bit, tell Wade who I’m with and not to worry.” 

I was a little nervous closing the door behind us. I was glad I had dressed up for my date later. I wanted to make a good impression. We walked in silence for a short while.

“Ve should get you a place that is varm, yes?” Colossus asked. I had forgotten my coat, but was wearing long sleeves. I nodded, a little intimidated. 

Blue box: You are huge. Are you proportional? Because I am already nervous about how big Wade is, and you are just an entirely different playing field of nope.

“Thank you.” I nearly whispered. What did he want? Was this where he tells me that Wade is unstable and I need to be taken away for me own good? Because fuck that noise. 

He walked us to a café/coffeehouse that seemed mutant friendly. The woman behind the counter had eyes that glowed slightly and she smiled at Colossus, which was a big hint. He ordered a black coffee. I ordered the same, with a shot of espresso. Negasonic Teenage Warhead ordered a latte made with the fair trade organic roast. 

Blue box: Your name is the coolest superhero name ever. All others should be jealous.

There was a large, sturdy bench that barely made a creak when Colossus used it. Negasonic Teenage Warhead ushered me in, penned against the wall. I tried not to get paranoid. 

Blue box: God Negasonic Teenage Warhead is a long name. She’s Neg now. Neg make me go boom?

“Ve vant to talk to you about Deadpool.” Colossus’ face was very serious. Or that could just be his face. I just nodded, unsure where this was going. “Vhat are your intentions?” I frowned. Neg rolled her eyes at Colossus. 

“How old are you?” She complained. 

“Oh,” I said. “You mean, are we dating, because we told Logan we are.” I frowned again, concerned when Colossus looked surprised. 

“You’re dating him,” Nag said flatly. I nodded. 

“He’s awesome.” I shrugged and tried not to blush. “He’s great, actually.”

“You vill not hurt him?” Colossus seemed concerned. That explained so much. 

“Of course not,” I promised. “I would never want to hurt him.” I smiled. “He’s sweet, and funny, and generous.” Neg pretended to gag. Colossus seemed pleased. 

“Oh, Thank Budda I found you.” I heard Wade’s voice from the door. I turned to him and smiled, trying not to chuckle at him. He wasn’t looking at me. In fact, I was behind a barrier and he couldn’t quite see me. He was looking at Colossus. 

“Vhat is it, my friend?” He asked Deadpool, who was fully in costume. Wade was agitated and rushed over to them, knocking over and righting a chair on his way, then righting it again when he knocked it over for the second time. 

“My girlfriend is missing.” Wade sounded frantic. “Al called and told me this Russian big guy came to the door and told her to go with him now.” Wade tried unsuccessfully to pull Colossus out of his seat. “She got attacked yesterday too, and I need to find her.” He pulled again. “Come on Iron cock, time’s short, tuck and go.” 

“Hi, Wade.” I interjected. He glanced over, still pulling Colossus’ arm. 

“Hey, Sugarplum gumdrop. Daddy’s busy. Got to find you.” He yanked again, only to over commit and land ass first on the floor. He looked up at me, looking from me to Colossus to Neg. “Maria!” I couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Hey there Huggy Bear.” I waved. “Did you miss me, Papa Bear?” I winked at him. He growled. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were going with the Terminator?” He asked, sliding under the table to me. I looked under it at him as he tried to maneuver around giant metal feet, and stopping to look at what might be a bouncy ball. 

“I told Al, and told her to tell you,” I reminded him. “It’s not like I could text you.” 

Blue box: You should get me a phone you adorable monkey. I need to kiss you. 

Wade grinned and slid into the empty seat next to mine, scooting it closer. 

Yellow box: After we get out of here. 

“And I thoroughly inspect you for injury,” Wade finished. I nodded. 

“I do heal fast enough that any injury would be gone, you remember?” I said lazily, smiling at him when he took my hand. 

White box: Then you should probably strip so we can check for blood. 

Blue box: You just want to have that bubble bath. 

“But it’s strawberry scented,” Wade tried to persuade me. 

Blue box: You get to be the little spoon. 

“Deal,” Wade agreed, kissing my hand, through the mask. I kissed his back. 

“Thank you for saving me, Hero,” I flirted at him. He looked down and I guessed her would have been blushing, where it not for the mask and the scarring. 

Yellow box: I guess you are a self-rescuing princess.

“My hair is all wrong for Buffy,” I reminded him. He tucked a lose strand behind my ear. 

“Still bad ass.” He booped my nose. I giggled. 

Blue box: Not as bad ass and you. I think Russian Death Metal is wondering what we are doing. 

“Hey, I’m glad you met my new girl.” Wade said, wrapping his arm around my shoulders casually. I leaned my head on his shoulder and smiled up at him. 

“OMG there are two of them.” Neg nearly whispered, but we all definitely heard. I stifled a giggled and threw her a wink. 

“Unfortunately, I suck at using a katana,” I said sadly. 

“I should teach you!” Wade said excitedly I shook my head.

“Can’t steal your thunder,” I told him. 

Blue box: I have to find my own weapon. Don’t you know that the Weapon choses the wielder, Mr. Wilson?

“Harry Potter reference for the win!” Wade all but yelled. Neg looked confused. 

“That’s not a Harry Potter reference.” Neg said flatly. Wade looked at her strangely. I took pity on her. 

“You are missing about half of our conversation,” I told her. “We’re just… on the same wave length.” I frowned. “I’d ask the professor why, but the only one I want in my head is him, and vica versa.” 

"The readers get to see the boxes, but you don't." Wade explained. "It funnier that way."

Blue box: I like it better that way. I like your boxes.

Yellow box: Aw. Can we keep you? You’re the nicest person we’ve talked to.

White box: She’s the only one we get to talk to dumb ass. 

Blue box: Boys. Boys. There’s enough of me for all three of you. I should get a Tattoo that says ‘Yellow, White, and Wade 4 Ever.’ If I could get a tattoo. 

“Maybe a necklace?” Wade asked. “Ooh. I ring!”

Blue box: No ring yet. I think there is a rule somewhere where you have to be dating for more than a week before getting engaged. 

Yellow box: I hate that rule. 

Blue box: You’re not dying. I’m not dying. Relax. Possibly in bubble bath. 

“Strawberry?” He asked. 

“Strawberry,” I agreed. 

At this point. Colossus was confused too. 

“You should kome to our mansion soon.” He was so earnest it hurt to look at him. “Ve vant to help.” I suddenly wanted to go to the mansion. Did he have a second mutant power? 

“Right now we have to go home and have a bubble bath,” Wade said as he stood. Neg got out of our way as he had us shimmy our way around. 

“Thank you for being such a good friend, Colossus.” I told him as we left. 

“Oh, we’re BFFs for sure.” Wade said. “By Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle.” He waved at Neg. 

“Bye Old man.” She waved back. He grasped his chest as if wounded. 

Blue box: Let’s wash those bad thoughts away. I think I might need help washing my back. Be very hands on. You know how I feel about washcloths. 

Wade shuddered. 

“Get on my back, I know a short cut.” He said, pulling me out of the café.


	20. Damn, I Wish I Was Your Lover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Intermission. Get popcorn. And don't forget to pee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter. Short, but more to come. Comments and kudos are life. Maria and Wade keep telling their story, so I keep writing it. Sorry about any errors.

Bubble baths take forever to fill. Long enough for certain mercenaries to overthink nudity and scar tissue issues. Which meant that he had to stop and get dinner. Then our bubble bath became my bubble bath. Wade contributed a battalion on rubber duckies to play with and bath markers. I ended up entirely covered with ducks and bubblegum scented foam. 

“You sure you don’t want to join me?” I asked Wade. He sat on the closed toilet lid, Castle Charmin framed behind his masked head. I slid one foot out of the bath up to the knee, so he could see my wet naked leg. It was supposed to be suggestive and seductive. Two rubber ducks were stuck to it. 

Blue box: Betrayal! My minions have betrayed me. Sir. Waddles and Duck Norris: You are dead to me. 

White box: Sir. Waddles and Duck Norris? You named the ducks?

Yellow box: The white one is Moby Duck.

Blue box: Is the black one Quackula? 

“And that one Sir. Duckington.” Wade pointed out a duck perched on the swell of one breast where it crested the water. He handed me a mug of hot coffee. 

Blue box: Best boyfriend. I wonder if there are strawberries. 

“Of course there are strawberries,” Wade said, sounding offended. “…and little cheese cubes. 

White box: And chocolate covered expresso beans. 

Yellow box: Because of the coffee obsession. 

Blue box: Is it too early to propose?

While box: There was something said about 17 dates. 

Blue box: 8 to go. 

“8?” Wade seemed shocked and nearly dropped the strawberry he was feeding me. I took it anyway.

“Lunch, dinner in a bubble bath, and I was rescued from a kidnapping,” I listed. I took another strawberry. 

Blue box: Also, want it. So math is what I want to it be. 

Yellow box: Am I hallucinating? 

Blue box: Do I look like you’re hallucinating? 

“You are naked in my bathroom, telling me you want to have sex with me, so… yes?” Wade tilted his head to side like and adorable gimp-masked version of a puppy. With guns. And an obvious erection. 

Blue box: Not really a horny puppy with a gun fetish. 

Yellow box: No you’re not. 

“If I was a hallucination, you wouldn’t feel the need to wear your mask,” I countered. 

Blue box: And I probably wouldn’t have just farted. 

“It’s just that, unusually, this is the point at which everything in the story is going great for the plucky hero, and right around the corner is a guy in a hockey mask with a white van offering candy.” Wade fed me another strawberry. 

“I think the author of this story was more going for a feel good tale of love conquers all.” I countered. 

“Unless it’s a tragedy, and you die in the next act,” Wade pointed out, feeding me an expresso bean. 

“Too tragic,” I pointed out. “There’s always a loop hole. No one with a healing factor ever stays dead for long.” 

“True.” Wade agreed. 

“Why don’t we relax and enjoy the intermission?” I suggested. “I’m sure drama is right around the corner.”

Yellow box: It always is.


	21. Nights in white satin: Taking off the condom.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One bed. Two people with sexual tension and interlocking parts. What will happen?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got inspired. Wrote this on my phone while visiting my parental unit. Comments feed me. Kudos provide life giving water. Love you all, just because you read this.

Wade came back to the bedroom as I finished drying my hair. Mostly. It would be dry by tomorrow. Probably. He had rushed to clean up dinner's leftovers as I got out of the bath. 

Now, he just stood next to the closed door, awkwardly looking at the bed. At least I assume it was awkwardly. The dope was still in full costume. He adjusted the costume minutely and removed an invisible speck of dust. 

Yellow box: There's one bed. 

White box: Yes, genius. One bed. You slept in it last night with her. 

"But that was after sexy times, and she passed out immediately," Wade complained. "Now there are expectations and rules and the writer has written us into a box." 

"What box?" I asked, confused. Wade rolled his eyes so hard I could tell through the mask. The sigh of exasperation helped, I'll admit. He indicated the bed again. 

"The laws of fanfiction dictate that I must do you on this bed." Wade whined. I blinked at him. 

"A) you still have 8 more dates to go. B) You haven't taken the suit off all night. And C) I'm literally wearing your underwear." I listed off, showing off the Spiderman boxers I had stolen. I had paired them with a Cami and was just ready to get in bed and sleep. I suspected that he might have given me decaf coffee, which was a crime, but probably a good idea. 

Blue box: Decaf is the devil, but I just want snuggles and snoozes. Ditch the body condom and throw on some yoga pants. 

Yellow box: I love yoga pants. 

Blue box: there are three pairs on top of my new dresser for you to choose from. 

White box: You know it's not safe. You could stab her in your sleep in a nightmare. 

"And then you wake up an do the laundry," I finished. He paused in his agitated finger movements. "Because I'll heal from it, and make you help clean it up." I slipped into the bed. 

Yellow box: She has a point. 

Blue box: Of course I do. Strip and get in bed; the sun's coming up. 

"I'll cover my head for as long as it takes. You do your thing," I told him. I covered my head and waited. After a moment I could hear the sound of buckles and leather fabric moving. I tracked his movement by sound alone, noting the struggle to get the suit off. Then he sniffed something, probably himself. I heard him walk to the bathroom, feet bare. 

The shower turned on and it took self control to stay where I was, under the blanket. I could imagine his wet, naked body in the steam, and I wished I could be helping him clean up. I got lost in the fantasy, and didn't notice the shower cut off, or Wade enter the room again. 

"I like the pink ones." Wade admitted. I wondered what the boxes were telling him. Nothing good. Well, White was a bit of a pessimist and meany. 

Blue box: Your ass would look great in them. 

Wade chuckled. Then was quiet for a moment, then chuckled again. I was burning with curiosity. But I held mostly still. Minimal squirming. I just wanted the whole package. Yellow was a sweetheart and I wanted to know what he was saying.

Blue box: You, Yellow, and White better get your ass in here. I want to kiss your smile. 

It was quiet for a moment, and then I felt the bed dip behind me. Wade slid in and slipped his arm around me. 

"You can look." He said, sounding tired. I brought his hand to my mouth and kissed it. 

"Don't have to," I told him. "I don't magically forget what you look like when your mask and suit are on." He dipped his head and kissed my neck. I hummed. 

Blue box: This was nice, but now I need cuddles and sleep.

Wade chuckled, then kissed my neck again. I smiled, but was getting tired. One can only run on caffeine for so long. He must have given me decaf. Betrayal. 

Blue box: Also, I fart in my sleep, and I just got a head start. 

"Night" I snuggled back into his arms. He chuckled. 

Blue box: If you wake me with decaf I will throw it on you.


	22. Taco Tuesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maria and Wade go get tacos. Less boring than it sounds, when you're with Deadpool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so very sorry for the delay in this posting. I was out of a phych med for a but there, and not in a good head space. Much better with all my meds. I hope this offering meets with your approval. Kudos and comments are love.

Our immediate reaction upon waking was that there was a supreme deficit of food in the apartment. OK. First there were three cups of coffee and watching Wade have a shouting match with Al about recording over certain prized bootleg Fresh Prince VHS tapes. There had been guns and threats of itching powder and dying a certain suit green. 

We were on our way to a romantic date at the second best Taco Bell in NYC. Wade was explaining his rating system. 

"It all came down to stocking the appropriate number of taco sauce packets," Wade explained. "Some people just don't take customer service seriously anymore. "

Wade was in costume again, and had more guns and knives than your average hunting party. I wasn't surprised when I saw a grenade peeking out from one of his ridiculously numerous pockets. I was less surprised when I realized it had a smiley face drawn on it in silver sharpie. 

Wade was all over the place today. He hadn't said a word about last night's weird shyness, but he hadn't bothered with a mask for coffee time. And he'd been very touchy today. I had to stop counting the number of times he had accidentally touched or grabbed my ass today.

Of course most of those times had happened when I had pushed him up against the counter and made out with him until Al was bored and disgusted enough with listening to us to leave the room. 

Yellow box: We should buy condoms today. 

Blue box: And lube. 

White box: For which one of us?

Blue box: Why choose, when there is time to sample everything on the menu? 

Yellow box: Toy store?

White box: Or hardware store?

Blue box: Yes?

"I knew there was a reason I liked you," Wade knocked into me pressing as much of himself against me as he could. 

Blue box: My ass?

"Definitely a factor."

"Not as nice as yours."

"It's all about squats."

Blue box: I only go to the gym under duress and bribery. My friend used froyo.

Yellow box: Would Starbucks work?

Blue box: Hell yes!

"Why don't we skip dinner/ breakfast tacos and... who am I kidding? After we eat as many tacos as we can, we should work out."

Blue box: And buy me a Venti with four shots of espresso. No six. 

"Will there be booty shorts?" Wade asked seriously. 

Blue box: If we can find matching his and hers. 

"Sold." Wade grabbed my hand and started pulling me along behind him faster. I rolled my eyes and let him. Wade was babbling about the origin of the booty short, when I felt something hit my side and pull me up and out of Wade's grip. An arm like a steel band wrapped around me and I couldn't help it. 

I screamed.


	23. Resolving the cliff hanger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so she screamed. But nothing is as it seemed. Her fear was but a dream, but a warning she should heed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back to trying to update once a week. There is a plan for at least the next few chapters, and a vague plan after that. I even thought up a sequel concept, but only if I want to go there. No beta. All errors are mine. Comments and kudos are love.

Moving through the air is disorienting and upsetting when you are expecting to be of little more… grounded. I took a moment to be glad my stomach wasn’t full of tacos, so that I wasn’t throwing up all over everything. I clenched my eyes shut and prayed. 

Blue box: Dear Death who delivered me after getting semi-decapitated by a semi; help a bitch out?

Maybe my prayer was heard, or maybe the ridiculously strong person that was carrying me had finally reached his lair, because I was suddenly jarringly stopped. He held me in his arms as I got my bearings on whatever surface we were on. 

I peeked open my eyes and determined that we were on a rooftop. What was it with these people and roof tops? Every scene, rooftops. Unless it was an alleyway. Rooftops and alleyways. And abandoned buildings. Rooftops, alleyways, and abandoned buildings. 

“Ma’am…” The voice behind me started, and let go of my waist. I took the moment to reach into my pocket for Wade’s gift. I slipped on the brass knuckles and turned. In a smooth motion that I had practiced with my self-defense trainer, I punched him as hard as I could from that position. 

Right in the balls. 

He gave a guttural grunt of pain that was a little higher pitched than I expected. I scrambled away as I heard a whine of ‘why?’ from my would-be kidnapper and glanced back at him.   
My desperate scramble stopped and I sat down on the roof with a thud. 

“Oh my god.” I whispered, horrified and trying desperately not to laugh. 

Spiderman was clutching his crotch with one hand, looking at me with one hand up to defend himself. 

“I am so sorry.” I told him.

Blue box: But I really wish I had a video of that, because that shit should be on YouTube. 

“Are you OK?” I asked, not moving. I was a horrible person. How could I do that to poor little Peter Parker? He needed hugs and cookies and no else he cared about to die ever. 

Blue box: Pobrecito bebe. 

“Why would you do that?” Spiderman asked plaintively, sounding hurt. Emotionally hurt. It looked like he was mostly over getting punched in the balls. 

“I panicked,” I confessed. “I didn’t know it was you that grabbed me and we were moving through the air and you’re like, really strong, and I could get away, so I punched you.” 

“But, there?” He asked, still confused. I bit my lip. 

“Makes it really likely that you can’t chase me?” I predicted. He sighed and his shoulders bent in a more relaxed posture that screamed ‘teenager.’ 

Blue box: Oh my god. I punched a 17 year old hero in the balls. 

“I am going to hell for it too.” I muttered. Spiderman gave a little near giggle, so a guess he heard me. Because people with super hearing were now a thing. Too many things were things. 

“I’m sorry if I scared you,” Spiderman apologized, getting himself under control, and trying to do the same with the situation. I nodded, watching him slip back into a more commanding posture. “But you were in danger.” I frowned. 

“Huh?” I sputtered. I looked around, as if the danger would present itself. “What?” I was just full of unintelligent responses today. I should have had a fourth cup of coffee. 

“You were with a very dangerous man, and he was pulling out a knife.” Spiderman explained, sounding like he was talking to a child. Which was ridiculous, because he was the one who still had to worry about homework and acne and prom dates. 

“What kind of knife?” I asked. Maybe Wade was going to give me a knife. He had suggested I learn how to use one. 

Blue box: I want to learn to juggle knives. 

“Does it matter?” Spiderman asked, confused. Adorable. He makes me want to knit him a sweater. Or learn how to bake. 

“Maybe?” I said, pursing my lips in thought. “If it’s a gift.”

“A gift,” Spidey said flatly.

“What?” I defended. “Knifes are great gifts.” 

“Glad you think so, Buttercup.” Wade said from behind me. I twisted to see him finish climbing the ladder with a dramatic leap. 

“Wade!” I greeted happily. “I got to meet Spiderman!” Wade walked casually to my side and pulled me to my feet with one hand. 

Blue box: And then I punched him in the nuts and I feel super guilty. 

“I am super jealous you got to go web slinging.” Wade told me, tilting his head at Spiderman, who looked very confused. 

White box: He deserves it for scaring you.

“But I didn’t really get to enjoy it, so I don’t think it counts.” I pouted. 

Yellow box: Maybe you could guilt him into another ride.

“What is going on?” Spiderman asked us. At least I think he was asking us. He may have been asking the universe at large, because he was looking up in the air like it held the answers. 

“You kidnaped my girlfriend on our way to our date.” Wade summarized casually, tucking me up against his side. Spiderman winced. 

White box: He should be punished for that. 

Blue box: He already got punched in the nuts when I was wearing my brass knuckles. 

Yellow box: Good use of our gift. 

Blue box: Plus, he’s like, still in high school, so I would feel super bad about laying a finger on him. 

Wade raised an eyebrow and looked at me. 

Yellow box: High school?

I nodded. Then looked back at Spiderman. He looked supremely uncomfortable. 

“Could we feed him tacos?” I asked Wade. Wade looked down at me. “He looks like he could use a good meal.”

Blue box: Plus he’s, like, a poor orphan with a super metabolism. 

“He only grabbed me because he wanted to save me, and the only one who got hurt was him.” I reminded Wade. 

“Put he’ll crash our date.” Wade whined. I chuckled. 

“I’ll make it up to you.” I promised. 

Blue box: Perhaps with a meal for two.

Yellow box: But we’re eating out?

Blue box: And you could eat me out after.

“Tacos it is.” Wade agreed. “You owe it to us for grabbing her off the street and making her miss her first web slinging.” Wade pointed at the hero. “Come on Webhead, we’re having family dinner.” 

Yellow box: Awkwardness guaranteed. 

White box: Didn’t we try to kill him?

Yellow box: Not in this universe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you want to see what happens at dinner. I might skip it and reference it, but the scene in my mind is at least entertaining to me. More to come, maybe even another chapter this weekend if I have the time and inspiration.


	24. To catch a spider.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Making Peter stay for dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is what I did instead of eating lunch today. Don't follow my example. Comments and kudos are love. Up next, we eat tacos. Comment if there's something specific you want to see in the future, and I'll see if I can fit it in.

"I really should get back to my patrol." Spiderman said, almost sounding apologetic, but mostly relieved. 

Blue box: Don't be like that Petey. 

"Yeah, don't be like that Petey." Wade parroted. 

Spiderman fell and saved himself from a truly beautiful faceful of roof gravel and pigeon poop by virtue of enhanced reflexes. He flipped back into his feet and landed with all the grace and dignity of a cat that meant to do that. 

"No, it's just... that... i should go," Spidey stuttered. 

"But Spidey!" Deadpool whined. He was really good at whining. 

"Maybe he doesn't like the nickname?" I suggested. 

"There is that faction that prefers baby boy," Wade contributed. 

"But he's like, 17," I reminded my boyfriend, who needed to not really about hypothetical sexual relationships with minors, however hot fanfiction about their move legal selves could get. 

"How do you know that?" Spiderman demanded. 

Blue box: Because I'm a giant nerd with a fanfiction addiction. 

"Because I'm from an alternate dimension," I summarized. Spiderman relaxed, shoulders dipping. We're those magic words? 

White box: Awe, but it was funny watching him get all sweaty and panicky. 

Blue box: Stop torturing the teenager.

"But it's fun and only mildly emotionally scarring," Wade defended himself.

Blue box: That's fair. Are we going to trade him about his crush?

Yellow box: Of course we are. 

"But only mildly," I warned. 

Yellow box: Mild emotional scarring only. 

"Family dinners are meant to be awkward, interrogative, and slight emotionally scarring. " Wade touched off fingers as he listed. "Then they end in a big dramatic reveal so that they can be a deep emotional conversation later and they can hug it out."

"I have something to tell you Wade," I said, taking one of his hands in mine. He turned to me. 

"Sitcoms led to you."

"Never. "

White box: That should have been revealed right before desert and rib Mom's apple pie. Points off.

"I do make a mean apple pie," I told him.

Blue box: And by make, I mean buy. Which reminds me; Tacos.

"Tacos!" Wade shouted, throwing his hands in the air, like he just didn't care. 

"Yes," I agreed. I turned to a confused Spiderman. "Come eat with us Petey."

"A little hard to eat though the mask," He quipped. 

Thanks for joining the conversation," Wade said, turning to the hero. " I thought the writer had given up trying to write you. "

"Ssh..." I hissed. "Don't scare him off yet. Ease him into the crazy. "

Blue box: Then bring out the rubber duckies. 

Yellow box: General Quackington will appreciate the extra time to prepare. 

"1; You would be amazed how much food can make it through spandex." Wade said. "And 2; Tacos are totally terrific to go."

Blue box: Nice alliteration. 

Yellow box: Nice boobs.

I rolled my eyes. Spiderman looked to be assessing the situation, unsure. Free food was an easy draw. 

"We can have a rooftop picnic." I suggested. I pointed imperiously at my new boyfriend. "Fetch us an obscene amount of tacos." 

"As you wish." Wade said, taking my hand and kissing it. 

Blue box: I am a princess now. 

Yellow box: My princess. 

"I'll be back in three shakes of a donkey's ass. " Wade promised, giving me what I assumed was a wink. 

Wade saluted Spiderman and blew me a kiss as he jumped to the ledge of the roof. Spiderman moved forward, hands stretched to stop him. 

"Relax, he's going to be fine," I said, waving a hand to get his attention while Wade stretched and did a few sun salutations. "I've seen him turn in half and walk it off." Wade put his hands together and crouched in a diving pose. Spiderman looked like he was going to have a fit as he watched Wade jump. 

I say jump, put it was really a twisting backflip of the edge into a fall that made me think of 'too infinity and beyond.'

He made a wet crunch when he hit the pavement. 

"9.5!" I yelled down. 

"Liar!" He complained, pulling himself to a seated position by a show of impressive core strength. "That was at least a 9.7."

"Killed the dismount, but points off for the right leg kicking higher that the left on the flail."

"Exceptable." Wade agreed, stretching his legs and pushing a bone back into place. A brave cat came forward to kiss his offered fingers. 

"Tacos, Wade. " I reminded him. "No blood on the tacos. " 

"Yes ma'am," he saluted with a mostly broken arm. He readied himself on unsteady feet and ran off into the streets, possibly into traffic, if the horns I heard a few moments later were any indication. 

I turned to Spiderman, who looked down at the bloodstain like it was going to answer his questions. 

"We should watch YouTube videos of adorable kittens." I told from. If you run, I'll just deliver the tacos to your house, and you'll have to explain how you know me to your Aunt May. " I added, reading the flight in his posture. He deflated, and slumped next to me. 

"Can we watch kittens waking up?" He asked. 

"Boy after my own heart."


	25. Family Dinner 101

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spiderman gets free tacos. In exchange, he must sit through a family dinner with Deadpool and his girlfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huzzah! I have a working computer again. The last week has been extra sad. I have an unexpected day off, so I might even update twice today to try and make up for it. Thank you for sticking with me. This lets me let loose a side of myself that is not acceptable for polite company. Comments and Kudos are love and I'm a bit of a needy slut. I apologize for all the errors and anything you see that is wrong. Tell me and I will fix it.

Spiderman and I looked up when we heard someone scrambling up the fire escape, an indeterminate number of squee related sounds later. Spiderman tensed, but sighed in a slightly exasperated tone when we heard Deadpool muttering to himself about proper fire escape maintenance. Spiderman had stayed resignedly, motivated by free food, kitten videos, and a smidgeon blackmail. 

Deadpool peeked the top half of his face over the edge of the roof, showing his mask from the bridge of his nose up. He had a canvas hat perched on his head that flopped comically as he stopped moving. 

“Hidey ho there, neighbor!” Deadpool greeted, voice breaking its usual cadence. I chuckled, and Spiderman seemed confused. 

“Did you really buy a hat for a one liner joke that only one of us was going to understand?” I asked while I walked over to the edge of the roof. 

Blue box: I missed you, silly man.

Yellow box: Duh.

“Disposable income plus low impulse control,” he explained. He held up an extra-large cup of coffee. 

“You are the best boyfriend ever,” I told him seriously as I took it from him. He hummed an affirmative as he made his way on to the roof. He was sporting a full backpack and had three bags from taco bell on one arm. I took a slow sip and my eyebrows went up.

Yellow box: I had them add six shots of expresso. 

“Marry me,” I ordered, voice awed. 

“June wedding?” He suggested. 

Blue box: Valentine’s Day with a red theme.

“I am starved,” I said instead, taking the bags from him. Deadpool opened his backpack and pulled out a checkered tablecloth, which he spread on the ground. I smiled and sat on one side, crossing my legs as I refiled through the bags. 

“How many tacos did you get?” Spiderman asked, sitting down next to me cautiously, ready to spring away. He peered into the bag, curious and hungry. 

“42,” Deadpool answered, pulling out paper napkins with little cartoon avengers on them.

“Perfect answer,” I agreed, shooting him a quick wink. Deadpool winked back. I handed Spiderman one of the bags of tacos. “Dig in. We don’t stand on ceremony.” 

“Ooo!” Deadpool interrupted. He handed Spiderman a box. “I got us juice boxes!” Spiderman turned it over, seeing that it had Iron Man’s face on it. He turned to Deadpool to complain, only to find Deadpool had lifted his mask to start drinking his own Hulk juice box. 

“Much better than the My Little Pony ones that we had on our first date,” I approved. Spiderman sighed and opened his juice box. Wade started digging into his first taco. Spiderman hesitated, but pulled up his mask just enough to drink and eat, exposing his chin and mouth. Deadpool and I purposefully ignored it, showing more restraint than either of us had showed all day. Possibly all week for Deadpool.

Deadpool filled the silence with the tale of how he had come upon the centerpiece for our meal: A foot long statue of a sleeping cat made out of odd buttons. 

“So how’s school?” he asked Spiderman, interrupting his description of the Cashier’s handlebar mustache. He had adopted his version of a middle-aged mother’s voice, cajoling with a side of nagging. Spiderman looked up from a half-eaten taco and swallowed his huge bite. 

“Um… fine?” he glanced at me for confirmation. I nodded encouragingly and gestured that he go on. He licked stray sauce off his lips and swallowed again. “I mean… it’s good. School’s great.” He took a deep drink from a juice box. I hummed and sipped my wonderful expresso loaded treat. 

“How are your grades?” Wade asked, curious. “I bet you’re on all ‘A’ honor roll, not a red pen in sight.” Spiderman blushed so hard his chin was red and he ducked his head. 

Yellow box: Such a genius kid. 

“Not like… all A’s,” he admitted. “Not yet, anyway. There’s this extra credit thing that I have to do for Calculus, because I was absent for this quiz, but it’s like, no big deal.”

“Were you rescuing kittens when you should have been in class, young man?” Deadpool admonished. I held in a chuckle at his finger waggle. Couldn’t waste precious coffee. 

Blue box: Maybe helping old ladies cross the street?

White box: Or hanging upside down in the rain, looking for red heads. 

“There was a bank robbery on my way to school!” Spiderman whined. “I couldn’t just let people get hurt. There were innocent people in there. Mothers and little children. I couldn’t just let them get hurt, or worse.” His earnest tone made something in me twinge with an impulse to… save people. To apologize for not helping. I was suddenly very glad the top half of his face was covered, because he undoubtedly had the best puppy-eyes of anyone. 

“Besides, I only missed one class,” He added. Deadpool was frozen for a moment at Spiderman’s earnest speech. He unfroze after I very subtly poked him in the side with my elbow. He swayed to the side and perked up.

“I skipped so many classes in high school I set a record,” Deadpool bragged. “Most classed skipped of any graduate in Victoria High School’s entire history.” He grinned, white teeth gleaming a little manically in the moonlight. “I got the certificate framed.” 

“I do not want to think of the look on my mother’s face if I would have done that.” I shivered. “She would have made me clean the house until I passed out face first in a dirty rag.” I shivered again. “And that would have been Monday.”

Blue box: And my Dad’s look of disappointment would have made me cry. Like serious sobbing gasping apologies. 

“I don’t want to think about what would happen.” Spiderman said with a little shudder of his own. “One class was bad enough.”

“But, for reals, Spidey,” Wade said, telegraphing the seriousness of his statement by actually setting down his taco. “You’re like… my hero.” 

Blue box: Him and Captain America.

“That’s right,” Wade agreed. “You and Captain America.” 

Spiderman’s blush was so bright it lit the roof. He stumbled his way through a humble thank you. I glanced at Wade, and winked. 

Blue box: Now for embarrassing questions.

White box: More blushing!

“So what’s it like?” I asked, voice conversational, but face in a shit-eating grin. “You know, selling selfies for a living?” I tilted my head, expectant. Spidey nearly did a spit take. 

“And how is that crush of your’s doing?” Wade asked. “Have you asked her out yet?” Wade laid his head on my shoulder. “I give great dating advice.” He swung his arm around my shoulder. “Tip 1: Don’t stab them. It turns out it’s a major turn off.”

Spiderman floundered. 

Yellow box: This is going to be fun.


	26. I Wanna Sex You Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Self indulgent porn. Of the oral variety.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My computer is a wonderful piece of technology that I will never bad mouth ever, just in case it has gained sentience and breaks again to spite me. But this chapter is here, and I'm mostly happy with it. Comments and Kudos are love.

“Thank you for a lovely dinner out, Darling,” I praised Wade, linking his hand in mine as we walked back to the apartment. We had finished the meal by gifting Spidey the cat statue because Al is allergic to cats.   
“So how would you feel about desert?” I asked, less suggestively than I intended. We were getting close to what I was already starting to think of as home. 

Yellow box: What kind of desert?

“I was thinking another taco.” I suggested, smirking. He hummed. 

“I did only have 23 tacos.” He agreed. 

Blue box: I was thinking something more along the bearded variety. Or do you prefer bald.

“Definitely a fan of drinking from the fuzzy cup.” He countered. 

“I could even return to favor.” I added. 

Blue box: I look forward to sucking on a particular Popsicle.

“I do like chowing down on Georgia O'Keefe's inspiration.” Wade added. 

“Tokin’ the Purple-Headed Yogurt Thrower.” I said, trying to keep a straight face. 

“Yodeling in the canyon of love.”

“Engulfing the Enchilada.” 

Yellow box: Mexican food themed BJ jokes. 

White box: And a desire to follow through. 

“We’re keeping you.” Wade informed me. He grabbed me by the waist and hoisted me over his shoulder. “Not walking fast enough.” He informed me. 

Blue box: I could be wrapping my legs around your head in minutes.

White box: Run faster.

Blue box: I then I can show you this trick a drag queen taught me how to do with my tongue.

Yellow box: Unless you want me to start stripping you in an alley, you might want to slow the innuendo.

Blue box: Run faster.

Wade nearly broke the door getting it open less than a minute later, and slammed it shut behind us. One of his hands creeped up and squeezed my ass. I yelped embarrassingly. 

“Al, might want to pump up the volume, unless you want a porn soundtrack.” Wade yelled out, not stopping in his journey to his/our bedroom. His butt was right in front of my face, and it was a great view, even with the handle of a katana digging into my side. I reached out and took two handfuls of his ass as he closed the door to the bedroom. 

He tossed me onto the bed as the dulcet tones of ACDC filled the air. I bounced twice before catching myself. I took in my boyfriend. The word still filled me with a bit of a thrill. He had ripped off the mask and was looking at me with an unmistakable hunger in his eyes. I sat up and started shedding my coat.

Blue box: Naked. Need you naked. Need me naked. Naked time!

Wade chuckled. There was a rough, dirty edge to it that sent tingles down to my special place. Where certain other things of his would also go. 

“You’re right.” Wade said. I flung both the coat and shirt off the side of the bed and focused back on him. “She does look like she needs a good tongue fucking.” I let out a sharp breath that was half whine and half moan. He smirked at me, pulling off his gloves with his teeth. I groaned and flicked off my bra. 

“Fuck.” I bit out, undoing my belt. I fumbled with it, causing me to have to look down to figure out what was taking so much effort. When I finally got my pants unbuckled, unbuttoned, and unzipped, Wade’s hands slid over mine. I looked up to find him, suit rolled down to the waist, leaning over me. I took a deep breath of him: slightly sulfuric, smelling of honing oil and gun oil, over-laid with leather and a bit of blood. I was starting to find the scent of guns and leather arousing by association. 

Wade took hold of my pants and looked searchingly into my eyes. He was obviously searching for consent, as he waited. 

“Please.” I begged, bucking up my hips. 

Blue box: I’m dripping for you. Just for you. Lap it up and make me come in your mouth, sink your fingers in and make me scream your name so loud Al wishes she was deaf. 

“As you wish.” Wade growled, pulling off my pants and underwear in a smooth motion. I gasped at the cold air of the room, but not an instant later, Wade was kneeling over m. His mouth covered mine in a kiss that was devouring. I moaned into his mouth at the passion, then again when he used to opportunity to slip his tongue inside. 

His tongue fucked my mouth and just thinking of what that wet muscle could be, would be, doing to other, more sensitive places, had me getting so wet I was dripping on the bed. The hand not holding Wade above me, slid down my torso, pausing to brush through my curls. My pelvis bucked into his hand, trying to get his hand where I wanted it. 

When his fingers slid down over my lips, soaked and ready for him, his growl drowned out my moan. He zeroed in on my clit like his fingers were made for nothing else but pleasure. He rubbed and teased me, starting to nibble down my jawbone to my sensitive neck. Just as he slid a finger inside, he bit down on my collarbone, just the way he knew I liked. 

“Wade!” I moaned.

Blue box: More baby. More. So good. Give me your fingers. 

“I’ll give you everything you need, baby girl.” He told me, voice dark and husky. I gasped and clenched down on his finger. He took that as a sign to start fucking me with it, rubbing and moving slowly in the wetness. The tongue and teeth down my chest followed the slow sure movements, ratcheting me higher. He briefly caught one nipple and teased it with tongue and teeth. He gave it a nice strong suck with a hint of teeth as he slid the second finger in.

“Fuck!” I yelled pressing down into it. Much better than my own fingers. The one boyfriend I had tried this with was the worst and hadn’t made me come at all. It felt like Wade was coaxing me up into a state where orgasming was the only conclusion. He groaned slightly into my breast as I clenched around his fingers. 

“You’re so wet, baby girl.” He growled. “Leaking all over my hand.” He trailed his head down my stomach, leaving kisses in his wake. I opened my eyes to see him poised at the apex of my thighs and breathing in deeply. I was suddenly glad for my stop in the bathroom to freshen up on the way home. 

Yellow box: Gonna wreck you, Princess.

White box: Gonna make you squirt all over my hand. 

The look of complete hunger in his gaze, and the way he looked to be feasting at my altar blew me away. I couldn’t think straight to respond, and I don’t know if I could have caught my breath to do it. I stared at him, chest heaving, on the cusp of an earth shattering orgasm that had been building steadily in my gut. 

Blue box: Please. Please make me come. Wade! Fuck. Wade, please?

Wade growled, not breaking eye contact. He leaned forward and started licking unerringly at my clit, having familiarized himself with the territory earlier by hand. I made a keening sound that might have embarrassed me if I could have found a brain cell to give a fuck. They were all focused on the amazing and talented man starting to suck on my clit with fervor.

He angled his hand, pressing up with his fingers, and I saw stars. I think I yelled his name. Not sure, because the next second I was coming, shaking and moaning as he worked me through it.

He gentled his movements and brought me down as I became oversensitive. I opened my eyes, looking down at him like he was a revelation. He licked his lips with a smirk. 

White box: The way you tightened up on our fingers. I’m going to be dreaming about that little cry of pleasure.

Yellow box: So surprised. So needy. Nearly burst the seams on my pants.

I blushed. It was a lot easier to be uninhibited when horny to the point of nonverbal. But I was still horny.

Blue box: Can’t wait to get you in my mouth. I did research for you.

“As sexy as you doing blowjob research is, you should really hold on and enjoy the ride.” Wade purred. He moved her fingers, rubbing gently in my sensitized nub. I gasped and pushed into it. He chuckled and licked his lips again.

“Cause, Princess, we’re just getting started.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment if you want to see more of this scene, or if you want me to move on with the story.


	27. Playing the piccolo.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Its explicit oral, again. Some people like to reciprocate. Not required, however.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up a little later than I planned. Not feeling 100%, but better. Please excuse any inaccuracies or mistakes. Penis size is not described on purpose, because Wade said some things are private. Kudos and Comments are love. Please love me:)

I was coated in a light layer of sweat, panting and satisfied. Three organisms had really taken it out of me. He seemed to know, from the twitching, that I was a little too oversensitive to go another round right then. Instead, he was sucking hickeys and kisses into my thighs. I think he might her been writing a word, but I couldn’t tell. 

Blue box: You are the King of oral. You get to wear the tiara. 

“It is a nice tiara.” Wade commented. Only a tightness in his voice gave way to anything other than perfect control. “But I just adore watching you come apart.” He gave my labia a kitten lick that had me gasping. “Over and over again.”

“I can’t wait to feel you come apart in my mouth.” I whispered. Wade sucked in a breath. 

Blue box: Want to taste you and discover what you feel like under my tongue. Get my hands all over you. 

“Who am I to say no to the pretty lady?” Wade asked, pulling back. I propped myself up onto my elbows again, and got a nice view of Wade stripping himself out of his body condom. He bent over, and I got a fantastic view of a fantastic ass. 

Blue box: I just want to lick it.

He struggled a little bit with the boots and the legs of the outfit. While he cursed, I took the opportunity to slide to the edge of the bed and sit on it, watching. 

There was a lot of skin on display now. It was bumpy and rough in places, sure. But it was also stretched over a killer body. An ass that was made for spanking. Shoulders that I could, and had, wrapped my legs around. A back that I wanted to scratch my fingernails down. I shivered and bit my lip. He was getting me worked up again, just from dancing around the room, cursing at the inventor of spandex and zippers. I snuck a hand down to touch myself. Yellow and White was offering not so helpful advice, but eventually, he was free. 

Yellow box: Good, you’re done. Now go get that blow job.

White box: Just try to avoid the disgust in her eyes. You have been waving your ugly ass in her face this whole time. 

He spun around, eyes wide. His eyes dropped to where my hand was, between my partially opened legs, touching myself. His lack of eyebrows rose. My eyes dropped to his crotch. I licked my lips. He groaned, dragging my eyes back up to his. 

“Can I?” I asked, glancing down at his still mostly hard dick. “Please?” Wade took a step forward. I slid to my knees in front of him. Staring up at him, dick inches from my face. 

Blue box: Please baby. Show me what you like. Let me make you feel good. Let me taste you.

Wade growled out a yes. I smiled up at him and took my hand from between my legs. 

Blue box: I’d insist on a condom, if either one of us could get sick of injured ever. And it’s not like head makes you pregnant. 

Yellow box: But for our readers: Oral sex can pass on STDs. So use your head for head and use a condom.

I slid a wet hand down his dick spreading the wetness as I went. Wade gasped, breath going tight. 

Blue box: You like that baby? You made me so wet, I thought you might enjoy a taste of your own work. My juices all over your dick from where you made me come. 

Wade groaned and his hips twitched into my hand. I hummed and licked my lips. I kissed his thigh, and felt it tense and relax. My hand kept slow easy strokes while I kissed my way up his thighs to the crease. 

At the crease, I licked. Wade gasped, and I sucked a little hickey, making him twitch and writhe slightly. But not away from the steady slow, and light strokes on his cock. I repeated the hickey on the other side, running my tongue across his balls on the way. He cursed. 

I tilted his dick up, and looked up at him, holding my hand still. He whined, bucking slightly in my grip. I licked my lips again and smirked at him. 

Blue box: I read this online. 

I maintained eye contact and licked a firm slow stripe from base to tip, coating everything in saliva. He watched with rapt eyes. I kissed the tip of him penis with a sucking messy kiss, which only my steadying hand on his dick kept him from bucking into. I oh so slowly slid the tip of his dick into my mouth, closing my lips over the tip. I gave it a gentle suck. 

Salty, sweaty, flavor trickled into my mouth. Not the best flavor, but completely worth it for the look of pure aw on his face. I took my tongue and flicked his frenulum in slow teasing licks. He moaned. I sucked again, then slid my mouth off to place sucking kisses down his length. I could feel the ridges of the scar tissue, bumpy under my lips. 

I traced it with my tongue. Looking up at him, my tongue set meandering paths up and down his dick, following patterns in the scars, throwing in licks to the frenulum and sucking kissing to the shaft and head. He was panting and moaning. I didn’t think I’d ever felt this powerful in a sexual situation. Yellow box was repeating the word please, every now and then. Wade was wordless, which was a new thing from him. 

I brought my other hand up to steady his dick. I looked down at it carefully as I sucked the head. Then carefully, rhythmically, I started fucking my mouth onto his dick. Each time I went a little deeper, keeping a rhyme sucking and using my tongue to tease him more. 

My second hand kept him steady as I went a little deeper and then faster. I relaxed my throat, but didn’t go anywhere near it. I wasn’t that advanced. I used my hand to squeeze and rub the part I wasn’t sucking. 

I looked back up. Wade was shaking, gasping and moaning every time I sucked a little harder. I kept eye contact as I slid my first hand down between my legs to rub myself.

“Fuck.” Wade breathed, watching me. “You wanna get off, sweetheart?” He gasped as I took him in a little deeper and sucked a little harder. 

Blue box: Want you to come in my mouth. Drink you down. 

I rubbed my clit harder and moaned, trying to keep my eyes open as I watched Wade fall apart. A couple more hard sucks and me moaning around him and he twitched in my mouth. Something incomprehensible came out of his mouth as he threw his head back.

Yellow box: Coming!

I groaned, low in my throat and started swallowing around him. He came, and I anticipated pretending to like salty off brand cherry cough syrup. It wasn’t quite as bad as I made it out in my head to be, so I hummed as I swallowed. He cursed and made a couple of aborted trusts into my mouth. I fucked my mouth onto him a couple of times until me stopped coming. 

I pulled off, softy licking him clean. I looked back up at him and sat back on my heal, still touching myself. That had been hot. He caught his breath and looked down at me. 

“Baby girl.” He said, voice low and dangerous. I shivered and rubbed my clit a little harder. He glanced down at me, trying to get myself off in front of him. “You are going to show me what sites you found.” He lifted me up and set me on the bed. “After I rock your world again.” 

Blue box: Yes please!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More to come. Ha ha. Come.


	28. A peaceful interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peaceful interludes can only last so long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short, but it progresses. Thank you for bearing with me on this journey. Interesting things coming up. Name a cameo you want to see in the comments.

It turns out that if you go to sleep in the morning, you wake up in the evening. Additionally, I learned of an awesome way to watch Soap Operas. With Wade. 

Wade had muted the show to come up with his own dialog. I was proud of the fact that I was only done four spit takes. Couldn’t waste precious coffee.

“Why does Karen have the flamingo again?” I asked.

Blue box: And why does he keep petting it possessively?

“He was abducted by his alien father, and now the flamingo contains the soul of his alien grandfather to aid her in her search for him.” Wade explained. I nodded. 

“And which one is secretly a cyborg?” I asked again. This answer had changed three times in the last hour. 

“Jose.” Wade responded, rolling his eyes. Last time it had been George. Who were twins. And were quite possibly the same character. But in Wade’s version had a headlining burlesque act. And the aliens kept replacing one of them with a cyborg, and no one ever noticed. 

“Do we have anything planned today?” I asked. I looked at the clock, but decided it probably wasn’t 2:02. “Other than fixing your clock?” 

Yellow box: And making you scream our name at least 10 times?

“Weasel keeps complaining that he needs you to replace the toilet.” Wade informed me. “He says he’s considering even paying you competitively if you come today.” I chuckled. 

“Which means I slight raise, after he decides not to.” I said with a shrug. “Money is money, and I feel like fixing things.” I looked over at him. “Want to help me lift things?” I looked him up and down. “Show off bulging muscles?” Wade wiggled what would have been his eyebrows, and flexed his biceps for me. I smiled and awed appropriately. 

White box: They are nice, aren’t they? Especially if you ignore the skin covering them.

Blue box: Even with.

I pressed a kiss to an offered muscle, decked in a Hawaiian shirt that almost hurt to look at. I traced a line of scar tissue with me tongue, looking at him. 

Blue box: I like the texture.

“Other parts of me are textured too.” Wade reminded me. I smiled and licked my lips. 

Blue box: Ribbed for her pleasure.

“So.” Wade said, clapping his hands and waking Al from her nap on the couch. 

“So?” I repeated. 

Yellow box: Let’s have a quick “snack” before we embark on our latest adventure.

Blue box: You are the merc with a mouth for a reason.

“Oh, just move out already so I don’t have to hear Wade’s girly screams.” Al complained, smacking Wade across the face as she walked by to her bedroom. 

Blue box: Pretty sure those were mine. 

“That was private noise!” Wade complained, pouting. “Turn up your ACDC.” He yelled back. 

“Fuck you!” Al yelled back. A song started. 

Yellow box: She wouldn’t.

White box: She would and she did.

Blue box: Is that Bieber?

“You know you love me, I know you care.” Al started screaming. It wasn’t melodic enough, or rhythmic enough to call singing. 

Yellow box: It’s painful.

Blue box: Is she deaf too?

White box: No, but that sound makes me want to blow my eardrums out. 

Blue box: I think I lost my appetite. 

Yellow box: Well I lost my erection.


	29. Four Dates and a bit to go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Progress is made, things are discussed, and Wade goes potty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the delay. Life happens. Sometimes it feels like too much life happens all at once. It isn't better, not something that can get better, but I think writing Wade and Maria helped. Cheaper than therapy. More to come. I plan on seeing this through until they do the do.

I tried again to bend the laws of physics to my will. 

Blue: Come to me. You will obey me. I am your Master.

Surprisingly, the wrench disagreed. 

“Stupid powers.” I cursed. I reached over and grabbed it, using it to help me secure the toilet seat in place. The bar wouldn’t open for another hour or so, so I didn’t need to rush. I did, however, want to. The men’s bathroom smelled strongly of vomit and piss. I had put down plastic just to avoid touching the floor. I think it was beige at some point, but now was a yellowed brown. 

“Did you expect them to be useful?” Wade asked from behind me. I nearly dropped the wrench in surprise. He had been talking with Weasel about an upcoming job. 

“I thought I could at least lift a pound or something.” I lamented. “Maybe half a pound.” Wade chuckled at my morose tone. I threw him a dirty look. 

Blue box: Sure, laugh at my pain.

“Will do, Sweetheart.” He promised. I chuckled a little in spite of myself. I finished tightening the last bolt and stood up. 

“Toilet is ready to be peed in.” I announced. I looked at Wade and pursed my lips. “Which is why you came in here, isn’t it?” Wade grinned. 

“Of course not!” He promised. “I came to check on you.” He gave me a little peck on the lips. 

White box: And we have to take dump. 

“Let me grab my tools.” I said, amused and resigned. Wade even helped me gather them into the tool box. 

“At least you can stir your coffee with your mind.” He reminded me. 

“But can’t lift an empty coffee cup.” I pouted. “I just want to complain. I’m in a super powered world. When I found I had telekinesis, I figured I’d be lifting cars. Or at least chairs.” I stretched and lifted the full tool box. “Instead, it’s largely forgettable.”

“You’re telling me.” Wade joked. “I thought the writer forgot, it’s been so long since she mentioned it.” 

Yellow box: But you really should go before I drop trou and evacuate my bowels in front of you.

White box: Possible record breaking size. Best to vacate the room while I practice giving birth.

Blue box: If it looks extra impressive, take a picture. And if you end up needing a onesie, let me know.

“Have fun pooping!” I wished him. “Don’t fall in.” I left the bathroom and shut the door, glad to breathe fresh. Well… fresher… air again.

************

Work was boring without Wade. Everything was boring without Wade. I was playing with drink stirrers with my brain. I could lift two at the same time. But couldn’t even budge the container they were in. Jean Grey didn’t have to deal with this. But then again, she did have to deal with the Phoenix. And, even worse, she was with Scott Summers. I mean, the guy kisses his former mistress on his wife; (Jean Grey’s) grave. I forget which death that was. 

Wade had actually left me to finish my shift by myself. He had to go make a contact and see a man about a gun. Possibly a bag of guns. 

I was under strict instructions not to leave without him picking me up. Apparently, the three morons had been spotted nearby recently. They weren’t allowed back in the bar, but Wade didn’t want to have me caught out until, as he put it, I had ‘learned to gut men properly.’ Apparently, there was a method to it. 

So here I was, with the place practically empty, waiting at a booth. Two people drinking and chatting with Weasel. I was Capital B Bored. And playing with cocktail stirrers. I heard the distinctive sound of someone walking down the hallway, and put the stirrers in my pocket before turning to face them. 

I saw black kick ass boots in my line of vision first. Then to the fitted black pants hugging shapely female legs. I followed the fabulous curves up to the fitted black leather jacket and tight blue top underneath. Then I saw a flash of red hair and met the newest arrival’s eyes. 

“Hello, Maria.” Black Widow greeted me. My mouth hung open. “Why don’t you come with me?” There was a slight smile on her face that made me think of a smug satisfied cat who had already caught its prey. I swallowed. 

Blue box: Can I at least request to die between those thighs?


	30. Baby one more time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kidnapping Number 3: The death of a Trope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in less than a week. Must be visited by Calliope. Comments and Kudos are love. Let me know in the comments if you want sexy times, or a shopping trip next.

We didn’t even make it outside. 

“I got you a gift Princess!” Wade announced, walking into the bar. He was carrying a box about the size of a tissue box, but covered in pink sparkly paper. He paused at the sight on me standing next to Black Widow. 

Blue box: Is it your dick in a box?

Black Widow moved slightly, taking a step as if to come between us. Wade looked between Black Widow and I for a few moments. Weasel and his two compatriots made themselves scarce. 

Yellow box: Did you seriously make friends with an Avenger while I was gone?

White box: Or is this your way of saying you’re into threesomes. Because it is going to be hard to top a Sexy Super Russian Assassin in black leather. 

“I’m not here to make trouble Mr. Wilson.” Black Widow said calmly, keeping both eyes on him. “I just wanted to have a chat with your new friend. 

“New girlfriend, you mean.” Wade corrected. He waved at me with one hand. Black Widow raised a perfect eyebrow. I felt intimidated and it wasn’t even directed at me. 

“According to my sources, you didn’t know her last week.” She pointed out. 

Blue box: I wasn’t in this dimension last week.

“I move fast.” Wade countered. “Some people find my kind of charisma irresistible.” 

“I just want to make sure she had the option to resist.” She pointed out. Wade visibly deflated. 

“Can I punch you?” I asked, causing her to turn slightly to look at me. “Because you just implied that my boyfriend is holding me against my will.” 

Blue box: And I’m afraid if you don’t give me permission them I will eat dirt with nothing but shame. 

Yellow box: And possibly a slight tingly feeling if she felt the need to crush you with her thighs. 

White box: What a way to go.

Blue box: Fuck her anyway. Not literally, because I’d like to not share you. Even though it would be amaze-balls.

“It’s the thighs and the leather.” Wade told me. I nodded. 

Blue box: And the red hair. 

“I think it’s the super-hot spy thing.” Wade countered. Black Widow looked between the two of us, calculatingly. 

Blue box: Obviously the hair. 

Yellow box: Prove it. 

“Because it makes you 350% more attractive.” I promised him. 

Blue box: Should I dye my hair? 

“Chestnut is definitely your color honey, keep it.” Wade advised. Black Widow took a step back.

Blue box: Bright red tips?

Yellow box: Hot.

“Shopping?” I suggested. 

“We should probably say goodbye to the spider first.” Wade reminded me. I rolled my eyes. 

“Just because she’s my second favorite Russian assassin doesn’t mean she’s not on my shit list.” I complained. “She was going to kidnap me.”

Yellow box: Which would make three times in three days. 

White box: Which means the rule of three applies now and we can be done with this trope. The writer needs to find a new gag. 

“At this point, I’m going to start assuming you’ve been kidnapped by heroes everytime you don’t answer your phone.” Wade complained. 

“Second favorite Russian assassin?” Black Widow asked, perfect brow arched. I grimaced. 

“Well, he’s not really Russian, I guess.” I allowed. “And not really an assassin anymore, I think. Maybe.” I frowned. “But I kind of prefer the Winter Soldier.” 

“You prefer the brain scrambled Popsicle poster-boy for PTSD?” Wade asked, halfway between amused and fond. 

“He’s interested and troubled, and I want to bake him cookies and learn how to knit so I can knit him an afghan, all while watching him casually fling knives at the wall around me to make a perfect silhouette of my body.” 

Yellow box: I think we’ve found our first roleplay.

Blue box: I want to adopt the Winter Soldier as my child. Possibly Grandchild, not bone him.

White box: You have issues. 

“Sweetheart, our issues have issues.” I said flippantly. 

“So you’re a mutant.” Black Widow stated, reminding us both of her presence. We both turned to face her, realizing that we had drifted closer to each other and were now in arms reach. She looked very uncomfortable, and was not really looking at me. 

“She’s just like me!” Wade said happily. I chuckled. 

“Except I have no idea how to use a gun. Katanas are like pairing knives, right? Same concept?” I joked. Wade gasped. 

Yellow box: You are not allowed to touch Bea and Arthur.

Blue box: What if I were to let you use them to carefully cut my clothes off?

“We need to get home.” Wade announced, taking my hand. 

“You’ll receive a call soon.” Black Widow told Wade. “Someone has a job for you.” Wade waved his hand at her. 

“Sure, Sure.” He agreed. “Have your people call my people.” I was tugged along behind him as we made our way to the door. “I charge half for Hydra.” 

Blue box: Because they’re dicks?

“Because they are Hitler’s Personal Bunghole Badgers.” Wade agreed. 

Blue box: Hitler kicked them out.

Yellow box: Because they sucked at their jobs, the Little Sock Fuckers.


	31. Get in loser, we’re going shopping!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shopping and Sexy times, as requested.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the huge delay in this chapter. I have not forgotten about this story. Life just gets in the way.   
> Thank you for all of your support. If is weren't for the comments and the kudos, this would have died.   
> Thank you for your love and support and please keep sending good vibes my way.

“I can’t believe that Al would do that.” Wade complained. I rolled my eyes. 

“What, do the exact thing that you did to her yesterday?” I retorted sarcastically. I sniffed my jacket, checking to see if we were carrying the scent with us. The whole room needed some time to air out.

“I used a stink bomb to drive her out of her bedroom.” Wade reminded me. “She put Surströmming on my pillow, which has got to be in violation of the Geneva Convention.” 

Blue box: We could always just move. 

“Your prank war does seem to be escalating.” I said noncommittally. Wade hummed, deep in thought. 

“I could glue the eggs to the bottom of the carton,” He thought. 

Yellow Box: We did that two months ago.

White Box: We should hide alarm clocks in her room to go off at random intervals.

“Oo! I have the best idea!" I said, grabbing Wade's hand to pull him to a stop. In front of us was a store that seemed to be a catch all for cheap toys, candy, gadgets, decor, and other randomness. Wade looked at the store. 

Yellow box: Getting stuffed unicorn? Because I already have one. 

White box: He lives in the closet. 

Blue box: I know all about Remus. 

"Just shop with me." I pleaded. "It'll be a fun adventure." Wade shrugged. 

Blue box: There's a BJ in it for you. 

Wade grabbed my hand and started pulling me into the store. 

"I wonder what fun adventures we shall have in this store?" Wade said, a little overly excited and loud. I couldnt help but laugh. He, of course, dragged me right over to the bath essentials section. 

"Should we get more ducks for the armada?" I inquired. Wade shook his head, picking up a glitter bath bomb. 

“Strawberries and cream.” Wade put it to my nose to smell. I inhaled and hummed. 

“Delish.” I agreed. “Any others?” Wade looked at the assortment of bath bombs. 

“We need a basket,” he pondered. I agreed, looking around. I walked over and grabbed one I saw in a different section.

Blue box: It’s got cut out hearts.

Yellow box: Get another one in purple too.

White box: His and hers. 

Blue box: I want the red one. 

Wade started putting little bath bombs and little bath accessories in his basket. I wandered down the aisle, throwing in some nail polishes.   
Blue box: Found fake insects. Perfect gift for our resident arachnid. 

“The piss your pants scary one or the adorable one?” Wade asked coming up behind me. I rolled my eyes. 

“The adorable one.” I assured him. “I don’t like getting stabbed.” 

Blue box: We should leave him a bag of snacks, and include these as a joke. 

Yellow box: Leave a note that a growing spider has needs. 

Blue box: Also, we need lots of candy.

“We’re not monsters.” Wade said in a hushed tone. We both went over to the candy station. We filled the rest of our little baskets with candy. I was very careful with the selection of a specific one. My little surprise for Wade. 

We checked out, only mildly scaring the poor teen at the checkout, then carried our bags out into the brisk early morning air. We interlocked our pinkies and swung them together as we went down the mostly empty street. Wade was plotting his revenge on Al, inventing hiding placing for the alarms. 

Blue box: I can’t wait to get my mouth on you.

Wade sputtered to a stop. I tilted my head at him like a confused baby bird. 

White box: If you really can’t wait for the Cream filling, there’s a perfectly good alleyway, right over there. 

Blue box: How do you feel about food play?

“We mention an alley for some quick and dirty piccolo playing, and you ask about food play?” Wade seemed confused. 

Yellow box: Are we still considering the Agoraphilia?   
“I got this little tube of sour apple liquid candy.” I told him. He still looked confused. “It’s one of my favorites.” 

Blue box: And I want to suck it off your dick. 

“Alleyway it is.” Wade tugged me towards the alleyway. I followed, chuckling. Wade pulled us in to the back of the alley, behind the dumpsters and trash. “Forget the ambiance.” Wade pulled out a bath bomb. “Ignore the smell.” I pulled out the tube of liquid candy. “Just suck it.”

Yellow box: Suck it real good. 

I opened the tube while Wade hurriedly pulled his pants down enough to reveal his very hard erection. I looked at it and licked my lips. I handed him the tube. 

“Put it where ever you want me to suck and lick and possibly run my teeth over lightly.” 

“Yes.” Wade said, grabbing the tube. “Yes to all of that.” He smeared the pale green sticky mess over the head of his cock, down his shaft, and onto his balls. I took it from him. 

Blue box: Thank god you don’t have pubic hair. 

Whatever response Wade might have had was cut off by me licking a broad strip over the glands and down the shaft. I licked up the candy and spread it around. 

Blue box: Tastes even better than I remember. 

Yellow box: The dick or the candy. 

Wade was panting. I took the head of his cock into my mouth and tried to lick and suck as much of the candy off as I could. Wade cut off his moan. 

Blue box: Both. But the candy tastes better with precum. 

I slid more of him cock into my mouth and slid my tongue around to lick and suck the candy on his shaft. His cock spurted more precum onto my tongue. 

Blue box: Yeah, baby, just like that. 

Yellow box: Fuck, are we dreaming again. 

White box: If we were dreaming, Our balls wouldn’t be sticky. 

Reminded, I pulled off and licked my way down the underside of the shaft to the balls. I licked a little at first, testing the waters. Then I, very carefully, scraped my teeth across the sensitive skin, scrapping the candy off slowly. 

“Fuck me.” Wade cursed, voice low and growly. I tried not the grin as I soothed the area with my tongue before doing it again. His hips shook. 

I licked and sucked until there was nothing left on the balls or shaft. Then I added some more to the glands and used my mouth to spread it down the shaft slightly. He moaned lowly and his hips thrust up into my mouth. I wrapped one hand around the base of his cock, measuring out how much I could take, then put my mouth around the tip. I looked up at him, slowly licking and softly sucking his leaking dick.

Blue box: It’s ok baby. Use your hips, Fuck my mouth.

Yellow box: Fucking hell, baby girl.

It wasn’t long after that. He warned me, but I let him come in my mouth. He fell back into the wall after, letting it support him. I stood up and wiped my mouth. Then I spread some of the liquid candy on my finger and slipped in my mouth to suck on. Wade groaned. 

“Baby, I know I have a great refractory period.” Wade swallowed. “But even I need more than 30 seconds.” I chuckled. 

Blue box: Take me home and see if you like eating it off my pussy. 

Wade was already pulling up his pants. 

“Grab the candy.” Wade order. “I hope you have enough.”

“Baby, I bought three tubes.” I winked at him.


End file.
